


It Begins

by bravepotato



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alpha Aomine, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Kise, Developing Relationship, Drunk Sex, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Omega Verse, Omega kise, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Royalty, Smut, Top Aomine, WARNING WARNING, War, chapter 8 is where the explicit starts, read these tags, untypical alpha omega dynamics, what is included and not included in the tags are huge hints to where the story is going, yep there will be eventual war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6344500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravepotato/pseuds/bravepotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alpha, beta, omega,” Daiki says, and both men turn to stare at him in surprise. Daiki is miffed. Do they think he has no brain? That he’s a musclehead?</p><p>“Okay, Aomine-ouji. Please explain further.”</p><p>“People had the secondary genders, alpha, beta, omega. Generally, alphas dominated, betas were versatile, and omegas were submissive, right? There were all these terms associated with it; heats, and knots, and ruts, and whatnot. How is this even relevant? Why are we having a history lesson?”</p><p>“Well,” Moriyama clears his throat and swallows. “That’s because Kise seems to be an omega.”</p><p>A pin dropping could have been heard in the room.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Kise asks incredulously, all his composure lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Begins with a Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, seeing as I was unable to complete my first-ever fic, I'll try my best to complete this one! I have everything already all planned out; all the chapter titles and the number of chapters and the plot events of each one. Warning: as it progresses, this fic will eventually become quite explicit and will include some...I guess you can say...kinky stuff. So be warned! Thanks for reading! I was debating between this or a Pirate! AU, but I settled on this. :P

_It begins with a fight._

Aomine Daiki is not a fan of fakes. Be it the curves on his women or the attitudes of his soldiers, he always prefers authenticity over falsities. Because he is not a fan of fakes, he dislikes the Kingdom of Kaijo.

Kaijo is so fake.

He looks around him at the bustling, sunny marketplace, filled with chatter and smiles, and he wants to vomit. Everyone in this kingdom is so sickeningly friendly, so sickeningly cheerful. Fair skinned, pretty people wave at one another and laugh energetically. All the market stands, while not top quality, are all made with clean craftsmanship and clear neatness. The poor people manage to arrange their rags into what can be accepted as stylish attire. Daiki feels like he is in a movie.

Kaijo is a kingdom known for its beautiful and cheerful people, but Daiki can see right through the nation’s façade. If he looks closely, he can see there, that that woman’s breasts are fake, that that little boy is smiling without being happy, that that girl’s voice is not actually that high and bubbly.

“Sakurai.” Daiki beckons his servant over with the wave of his hand. The timid, sandy haired manservant rushes over from a food stand, his eyes wide.

“Sorry, Highness!” He ducks his head in shame.

Daiki waves away his all-too-usual apology. “Tell me Sakurai, why are we in Kaijo again?”

“Uh.” The boy looks nervous, as if being asked a trick question. “Your father sent us, undercover, to check out how this kingdom is doing.”

“We’ve been wandering around the local streets for about three hours.”

“Ah, um. We can start travelling back now, I suppose. Everything looks alright, maybe? Prosperous? Sorry!”

Choosing to ignore the baseless apology once more, Daiki shrugs lazily. “Yeah, this place is pretty dull. Let’s head home.”

“Yes, right away!” Sakurai begins to pull out his frayed map.

“Sonny, you say this place is dull?”

A few moments pass before Daiki realizes he is being spoken to. He turns and comes face to face with an old man leaning all his body weight on an old, rusted cane. He is the epitome of what Daiki imagines a typical homeless person to appear like. The old man’s beard is long and yellowing with filth, his eyes gleaming both with amusement and fatigue. He looks frail but dangerous.

Daiki takes an immediate and unreasonable liking to the man. He is the only person Daiki has seen in Kaijo without a sense of falsity to him. So, he decides to grace the man with an answer.

“Pretty dull.”

“Ah…” Sakurai’s anxiety is practically bouncing off of him in waves. He is clearly uneasy, what with the sketchy appearance of the old man.

“You’re a tourist, aren’t you? From Too, probably, with your rough good looks and that dark skin. I’ll bet you’re a fighter and tell you what; there’s a great underground fighting arena not too far from here. It’s got real good fights that’ll make your blood boil.”

“Underground fighting arena? Isn’t that illegal?” Sakurai squeaked, stepping back and attaching an apology to the end of his question.

“Maybe in Too, but not here; it isn’t.”

“Where is it?” Daiki asks the old man.

“Aomi-” His servant starts, but shuts up quickly, realizing he had almost given up Daiki’s identity as a member of Toou’s royal family. “Uh, Dai-sama, we should go back home.”

The old man ignores Sakurai, speaking only to Daiki. “Down the street you’ll see a tavern called the Devil’s Eye. You go in, order the Blood Red on the Rocks, and you’ll be taken down to where the arena is. It’s always pretty busy there, but you’ll have one hell of a time.”

He holds out his hand then, as if asking for payment for his words, and Daiki shoots him a look. “If you’re still here by the time I leave, and I enjoy myself, then you get some compensation.”

The old man doesn’t protest, but there is a glint in his eye that tells Daiki of the excitement in the arena.

When he arrives with Sakurai, the tavern is strangely pristine and fake, just like the rest of Kaijo. A few pretty people are sitting around, elegantly drinking and chatting as if they are having tea with royalty. Classy jazz music plays as it would in a hotel bar, not a tavern. The lights are dim, creating a mellow ambience. Daiki orders a Blood Red on the Rocks, and is taken down to the rather shallow basement. There, the worker motions him to another door, and explains to him: “There will be one more long set of stairs, then a tunnel. That’ll lead you to the arena. Remember which door you came from if you want to exit through the tavern. There are many exits, all leading to different pubs and taverns in the community.”

Daiki wonders why there is so much secrecy shrouding the arenas, but concludes that it’s for the exclusivity factor. Sakurai looks tenser than ever, as if he is about to fall into a trap. Daiki is not worried. Even if trapped, he knows his own skills. He is agile, resourceful, quick, and strong. No one can beat him in anything, really.

The stairs are dark and silent. The tunnel is dark and long. As Aomine walks with Sakurai creeping behind, light starts to appear in the tunnel. Then, sounds. Cheers. Applause. More light. And then…

Sakurai gasps in horror, but Daiki’s dark blue eyes shine in delight.

The arena is massive, worn down, lit with glaring white lights. The massive crowd in the stands are hollering, cheering, and shouting profanities and compliments alike. Their faces are filled with fear, with anger, with suspense, and with excitement. This place is filthy, crowded, massive, and _real_. Daiki cannot see false emotion on any face. He shoves his way through the crowd and the crowd shoves back, not bothering with the fake politeness and graciousness displayed in Kaijo’s streets.

Daiki’s blood is boiling with excitement. He nimbly slips his way through pointy elbows and stomping legs, finding himself in an area closest to the fighting ring. Sakurai follows along, protesting all the while.

“This place looks really suspicious!” He cries out to the prince, who pointedly ignores him. He focuses on the men fighting in the ring…

And freezes.

The world freezes.

Now, Daiki is the heir to the throne of a powerful country. He is at the ripe age of eighteen. He has travelled to various kingdoms, seen various sights. He has slept with women (and some men) galore. Nothing and no one, however, could ever compare to the beauty that is in the ring.

It is a boy who appears to be about Daiki’s age, shirtless and sweaty and panting. His blond hair is tousled and dripping with perspiration, some strands sticking up and some plastered to his forehead. His cheeks are flushed a rosy red and his eyes are narrowed. His torso and arms gleam from the sweat, emphasizing his lean, athletic figure.

The most beautiful thing about the boy is his expression. There is a fierceness to him, a fire that draws Daiki in. The fire is seen in his narrowed eyes, in his clenched teeth, in the set of his eyebrows. There is not an ounce of ingenuity in the boy. He is beautiful, but he wears his beauty down under sweat and effort. Daiki thinks that makes the boy even more beautiful. He is hooked.

He is hooked, and then he is reeled in when the boy begins to move.

Instead of one opponent, the boy is facing five, who are all surrounding him. The five are all bigger than the blond, and brute-looking, like Vikings. Daiki watches the combat. He can tell the five men are skilled, seasoned fighters. Despite their size, they are agile and quick. They are forceful and strong and smart, and yet…

And yet.

None of them can lay a hand on the blond. He watches, in disbelief, the boy’s capabilities. He is lightning-fast and thunder-strong, whip-smart and practically dancing in the arena. His fighting style is somewhat showy with the occasional flip and tumble. His style reminds Daiki of the Long Fist martial arts rather than traditional street fighting. He evidently has training.

Daiki watches in awe as one of the men attempts to deliver a highly complex sequence of blows. The blond ducks under the man and before the man can react, the blond is delivering the _exact same sequence of blows_ to the man’s back. Daiki’s mouth drops open. He soon realizes the blond’s talent of copying even the quickest and most advanced moves without prior training.

Daiki is intrigued. In no time, the blond is standing, his fist victorious in the air with five unconscious men sprawled by his feet.

As impressive as the blond is, Daiki knows that the boy’s talents cannot shine a light to his own. The only one who can beat Daiki is Daiki himself. Still, he knows the boy will put up a good fight, and there is something, _something_ in him that is just itching to provoke such a beauty.

“Hey, pretty boy!” Daiki bellows. “What say you fight me?!”

Miraculously, the blond hears him. When their eyes meet, a tingle runs up Daiki’s spine. The blond’s eyes are the color of honey in sunlight, a deep amber that trapped anything too close to it. Those amber eyes are framed with ridiculously long and pretty lashes, unfairly pretty, _way_ too pretty for a man.

The blond smirks. “You think you can take me on?” he asks, and the whole arena goes silent.

“Highness!” Sakurai whispers in anxiety.

“Oh, _I know_ I can take you on, Blondie.”

The blond beckons him into the ring.

Daiki pulls off his white shirt and enters the ring.

The fight begins.

Time passes.

Ten minutes later, Daiki lands a blow.

Twenty minutes later, the blond lands a blow.

Twenty-eight minutes later, the blond is wide-eyed.

Thirty minutes later, the blond is on the floor and the crowd is cheering.

It was an impressive fight, and Daiki’s pulse is racing. He feels alive. Still, the results are expected. He offers a hand to the wide-eyed blond, who is staring at nothing.

“I… _lost_?” He asks incredulously. He ignores Daiki’s hand.

“I told you I could take you on.” He jerks his hand once more, and hesitantly, the blond takes it. His hand is warm and bloody, yet Daiki’s breath hitches in his throat. The blond is led out of the ring and back into the crowd, where people swarm them with compliments, duly ignored by both fighters. Finally, the crowd understands to leave them be. The blond pulls his shirt from the ledge of the ring and pulls it on, so Daiki does the same.

“You’re not…from here, are you?” The blond asks. Daiki nods. For the first time, he notices a small mark on the boy’s left earlobe; a piercing. He is, however, wearing no earring.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he answers flirtatiously. “Wondering where I learned how to fight?”

“Wondering if I owe you a drink for your victory.” He smirks, and Daiki is pleasantly surprised with the offer.

“You don’t look like the type to hold your drink well, Blondie,” he says.

“Try me.”

 _Oh, I would_ love _to_. Daiki is smart enough not to say that.

Other fights erupt in the arena, and Daiki cannot find Sakurai. So, he proceeds to follow the blond to the exit that leads back up to the Devil’s Eye. He looks out the window to see that it is late at night. the Devil’s Eye is filled with chattering, bustling people.

***

Two drinks in: the blond is asking Daiki where he is from, which the prince of Too evades.

Four drinks in: the room is slightly swaying for the blond.

Five drinks in: Daiki is feeling restless and languid.

Six drinks in: lots of laughter.

Seven drinks in: …

 _Hot. So hot. Where are they again?_ It is a room; a dark and empty room. There is a bed. There is a wall.

The blond is up against the wall, groaning as Daiki kisses his lips, his cheek, his neck. There are incoherent murmurs, incoherent sounds, and suddenly they are stumbling towards the bed. Clothes are flying off. The two boys are both sweaty and flushed, dark skin against fair skin.

_It is hot. It is so, so hot._

***

An eighteen year old with blond hair awakens from his sleep, unrested and groggy with a pounding headache. Sunlight streams through the white curtains of an unfamiliar window into an unfamiliar room. Appearing to be an inn room of some sort there is a simple bed (he is lying on), a simple nightstand, and a closet by the corner. The boy is sore all over, but most particularly in a very strange place. He tries to sit up, but the soreness coming from the embarrassing location tells him otherwise.

Where is he again? What happened?

He remains lying down and instead rolls over…

To come face to face with a sleeping, blue haired, tanned skin young man.

Suddenly all the events of yesterday come flashing back to him.

Sneaking out. Wandering the streets of his home. Visiting the local underground arena he frequented. Victories, victories, victories. The crowd cheering for him, against him, and more victories…and then a loss. A devilishly mocking young man with dark blue eyes like the night sky. Agility and skill and uniqueness the boy has never seen before. Awe. Lots of awe for the young man with the midnight eyes. There were drinks.

And then…

A flush rose to the blond’s cheeks as he recalled the hazy night.

_“I want you. Don’t you want me, too?”_

_“Spread your legs for me. Let me see that little hole.”_

_“You like this, don’t you?”_

_“You’re so hot, so hot…cum for me, Blondie.”_

There had been pain. There had been so much pain, and it was hot, too hot, too big…

And then there had been pleasure. The blond recalls, in horror and embarrassment, the satisfaction of being so filled, the desire, the lust, the _humiliating_ sounds he made…

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.” He bolts out of bed, ignoring the sting of pain from the action, and on the floor he sees his clothes, a bottle of lube, and a condom.

Where the hell did two of the three things come from? How did they even get here? How did _he_ even get here? He cannot recall. He pulls on his clothes as quickly and quietly as possible, trying not to wake the sleeping man.

He can guess that there are people looking for him right about now. He isn’t allowed to spend the night away from home. His father is going to kill him.

The blue haired man turns in his sleep and the blond panics, rushing to the window and prying it open. They aren’t too high up; only on the third floor. He does not want to be seen by anyone, so he leaps out of the window, grabbing a hold of the windowsill, and dropping down until his feet land on a windowsill from the second floor. With agility, he bounds down until he is back onto the streets, hoping he didn’t forget anything.

He looks at the building and realizes, belatedly, that it is still the Devil’s Eye tavern. Somehow, he and the blue haired man must have managed to rent a room upstairs? Nothing really makes sense. Keeping his head low with shame and trying to ignore the soreness of his body, he begins to walk home.

***

Aomine Daiki is extremely disoriented when he awakens. His mind takes several moments to register the events of the night prior. He is startled at first, but then a smirk spreads across his face.  

The best, most mind-blowing sex of his life was experienced last night. And it was with a man.

The blond. The gorgeous, sexy, honest blond.

Daiki’s grin widens as he turns around to come face to face with…

An empty bed.

His grin falls.

 _No way,_ he thinks to himself _. I didn’t even get his name._

Daiki’s day suddenly seems a lot worse. He decides to take a shower and realizes that it is noon. He wonders if Sakurai is still in Kaijo. After he changes into his clothes from yesterday, he walks down two flights of stairs to the tavern and is about to leave when a man who appears to be the owner of the Devil’s Eye stops him.

“Excuse me sir, but you need to pay for your night spent here.”

“What?”

“You and the other dashing fellow. You were both drunk out of your minds, so I brought you two up to one of the rooms.”

“Ah, oh. Thank you.” Daiki prays that he has money as he fishes in his pants pocket. Relief courses through him and he pulls out a few golden coins. “Will this do?”

The other man counts the money and nods. Then he clears his throat awkwardly, his demeanor suddenly oozing the fact that he is uncomfortable. “I ah, since you two were also making…eyes…at each other, I also purchased-”

The facts click immediately in Daiki’s mind as he recalls the two items that had been on the ground beside the bed.

“Right,” he interrupts quickly, handing the man his last gold coin. He didn’t plan on spending money in Kaijo, and now feels somewhat defeated.

The man thanks him as he leaves, polite enough not to inquire the whereabouts of the blond. When Daiki exits the Devil’s Eye, he is surprised to find an old man sleeping by the entrance. It is the old man who told him about the underground arena. Had he been waiting the whole night for his money? Unfortunately, Daiki has no money left.

Daiki creeps away, praying to every god he can recall that the man does not awaken.  

The man awakens.

 _Ah, great._ As if Daiki's day couldn't get any worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: It Begins with a Rumour
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! If Kise seems kinda OOC to you and you're here wondering "Kise? Not fake? Really?" then I can reassure you I'll try my best to keep all characters in-character. I love Kise, and one of my favourite things about him is his complex layers. He can be Mr. Sunshine and Idiocy, but as seen during basketball games in the series, he is also cutthroat and strong. I'm going to have fun playing with that complexity of his. And ofc, Aomine, too.
> 
> I was also going to actually write a sex scene, but then I was like, nah. They drunk. They shouldn't really know much of what's going on right now (since I'm kinda writing for their perspectives).
> 
> I also searched up taverns, and apparently there are usually like rooms for travelers to stay in?


	2. It Begins with a Rumour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the amazing comments regarding the first chapter! It really made me less nervous about sharing my work! 
> 
> Sorry for this chapter being REALLY short. (It's like 4 pages on Word whereas the 1st chapter was 9 pages) It's almost like a filler chapter, but its not, because the plot advanced and some vital information was pieced out. I was going to write about Kaijo's perspective on the proposal occurring at the moment just to make the chapter longer and introduce Kaijo's royal family, but decided against it. 
> 
> This chapter is short and not really that interesting, but I felt it was needed, so happy reading! :)

_It begins with a rumour._

Rumour has it that apparently Seiren, guided Kuroko Tetsuya, may be planning an attack on the Five Kingdoms. Seiren, an ever-growing and recently established powerhouse nation, is not a member of the Five Kingdoms. It is, however, a threat to be feared and dealt with accordingly, says Aomine Daiki’s father. The word being passed around is that Seiren is allying with multiple smaller nations outside of the Five Kingdoms in order to ban together and destroy the strongest nations: Too, Kaijo, Rakuzan, Shutoku, and Yosen.

Daiki isn’t concerned in the least. Daiki knows Tetsuya, who used to be his best friend and a member of Too’s Royal Guard. He is a skilled assassin, capable of fighting in the shadows and extracting secrets from important people and officials. Tetsu believes the Five Kingdoms to be morally corrupt and power-hungry, but Daiki couldn’t care less about the democracy that Tetsu preaches about.

If there is a war, Tetsu cannot win. Not against Daiki, and definitely not against all of the Five Kingdoms. In fact, a war would be pretty interesting, he supposes. Something to do, at least, because lately he is bored and without duties. Usually he’d enjoy his freedom, but something constantly nags at the back of his mind whenever he’d not occupied with a task.

The thing constantly on his mind is a blond haired, amber eyed mystery.

Two months have passed since his encounter with the man, and it had been two months since Daiki went to bed with someone. It is not that Daiki cannot simply head to the streets to charm someone into bed, it’s that he _doesn’t want to_. That is a problem.

That is a very _big_ problem.

After that heavenly night with the blond, multiple apologies from Sakurai—who travelled back to Too on his own with frantic exclamations that he lost the prince—and scolding from his father, Daiki visited Kaijo once more under the pretense of being interested in its culture. His father, proud to see him interested in something for once, allowed the trip. Of course, Daiki visited the arena again, but the blond was nowhere to be seen. He inquired about the blond to multiple people (He was careful to avoid the old man who he had shamelessly bolted from the morning after the fight). They all knew who he was speaking of, yet none knew the blond’s name. He was simply known as “that charming blond fighter.”

No one knew where he was, and no one knew where to find him. After multiple trips back to Kaijo and growing suspicion from his father, Daiki gave up on his search.

The blond couldn’t be a foreigner. From what Daiki had gathered, the blond frequented the arena monthly or almost weekly. Why had he stopped going? Was it because of Daiki himself?

Aomine Daiki is very put off.

He cannot fathom why he is so obsessed with the blond; it’s almost unhealthy.

Why is he so attached? He wonders if the boy thinks about him as well.

Anyway, it’s not as if the boy is something special. Aside from well, _everything_ about him.

At the moment, Daiki is in his room, laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. His room is large and spacious, a room fit for a prince in size. In appearance, however, it is a disaster. Ero magazines are sprawled about on the floor and weapons are teetering carelessly on the walls. His bed is unmade and a pile of dirty clothes are stacked in a corner of his room. Daiki prefers it this way, as he knows where everything is. He is not fond of the servants and maids entering his room without permission, trying to “clean things up” and leading Daiki to believe he misplaced several things. Of course, his father claims that his room is “a disgrace,” but Daiki doesn’t listen.

There is a knock on his door, and he doesn’t respond.

“Dai-chan!” A feminine voice calls out to him from the halls. Daiki recognizes the voice as belonging to his sister, Momoi Satsuki. She was picked up off the streets by his father as a young girl and raised alongside Daiki.

“What is it, Satsuki?” he grumbles lazily, not bothering to sit up.

“Father wishes to speak with you at once.” She throws open the door, which irks him, storms up to the bed, and pulls him up into a sitting position. She is an extraordinarily pretty girl, with very nice breasts and hair the color of sakura petals, but Daiki can only see her as a sister.

“Yeah, yeah.” Daiki stands reluctantly and follows her through the halls. His home, the Too castle, is vast and dignified, with wide hallways, guards positioned at every corridor, stone walls, and family banners hanging in every room.

They reach his father’s chambers and without warning, Daiki barges in.

His father, the King of Too, looks up from his paperwork. He is seated behind a pristine desk, and his room is the epitome of “fit for a king.” There is exotic carpeting, curtains made of the finest quality, lavish lights glittering from the ceiling, and a massive bed. The king himself has all the finesse and elegance of his room, sitting tall and regal even while scrutinizing various documents.

“Satsuki, thank you.” The king nods his head once to the girl, indicating that she is dismissed. Satsuki smiles in return, a warm and beautiful smile, and proceeds to exit, shutting the door behind her. The king has soft affection on his face for his adopted daughter, but when he turns to Daiki, his expression becomes stern.

“I need to speak with you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I kind of gathered that from, you know, being summoned here.” Aomine sticks his finger into his ear lazily, as if digging for earwax. He knows this will agitate his father.

It does.

The king’s right eye twitches in irritation, but he chooses not to comment. “Have a seat.”

Daiki lies down on the king’s bed. The king’s eye twitches again, more forcefully and Daiki fights the urge to laugh. When the king starts to speak, however, the prince sits up instantly, intrigued by his first word.

_Kaijo._ Images of blond hair and strength-lit amber eyes flash through his mind.

“Kaijo has recently reached out to us in these times of worry,” his father explains, his navy blue eyes growing even darker. The Five Kingdoms, the most powerful in the world, are not exactly on the best terms. There is something of a cold peace between the nations; no hostility, but no warmth. Daiki recalls hearing about a time when the kingdoms were all allied, but those times gave way to the current, unsettling truces between them all. Each kingdom looks out for itself, in its own best interests, and often people are sent to other kingdoms to ensure the others were doing fine as well.

If one kingdom reveals any sign of weakness, the other kingdoms would devour it. Such is the reason why Daiki and Sakurai were sent to Kaijo two months ago. Kaijo, the newest of the Five Kingdoms, is thought to be the weakest link due to its age. If there had been any political unrest, Too would have seized the opportunity to take over and establish further territories.

The king continues to speak. “There is indication that Seiren plans to attack Kaijo first of the Five Kingdoms, and Kaijo pleads for an alliance with us as neighbours.”

“An…alliance? So if they’re attacked, they want us to send in our troops to help?”

“Basically. I thought it was a good opportunity, son, to demand something of them; that which would be of great benefit to our kingdom’s future, and to you.”

Daiki has a feeling he knows what is coming next. “And what is that?”

“Well I’m sure you know that the Kaijo’s royalty, the Kise family, is well known for their beauty and dignity.”

“Uh huh.”

“I proposed that we solidify our alliance with Kaijo through means of a marriage. There are two beautiful Kaijo princesses willing to be your wife, and that would unite our kingdoms.”

That’s a big deal. That’s a _really_ big deal.

Daiki bolts to his feet quickly, not in protestation, but in surprise. “Me? Get _married_?”

The king puts down his pen and meets his son’s eyes. “It’s better than having you play around so frivolously on the streets. You’re eighteen, an adult now. I married your mother when I was your age.”

Well. The Kise family is known to be extraordinarily beautiful.

An image of fair skin and a challenging smirk flickers through his mind.  

“Son,” Daiki’s father says. “I will not _force_ you to marry, but I will _advise_ you. As heir to the throne, keeping your kingdom’s best interests at heart is vital.”

“I get it, I get it.” Daiki lies back down on the bed, contemplating, wondering why images of the blond are frantically running through his head. He’ll probably never see the boy again, anyway. But, if Kaijo and Too are united, Daiki could search for him to his heart’s content and without any pathetic excuses. There’s just the pesky problem of being…married. Ah. Well. Whatever the king wants, the king gets eventually.

“Yeah, sure.” Daiki shut his eyes and yawned, pretending not to notice his father’s surprised expression. He probably expected his son to be more resistant to the idea.

“Which princess is heir to the throne?” the prince asks, out of curiosity.

“Ah, neither.” He can hear movement, the shuffling of papers, coming from his father’s desk. “They have a son. Kise Ryouta.”

“Oh.” Daiki didn’t really care about the answer. He stands up and yawns again. “Are we done here?”

“Yes. Thank you for your cooperation.” The king nods formally in dismissal, which irks Daiki. He exits the room in a tired, languid manner and doesn’t shut the door behind him. He knows it will agitate his father.

It does.

“Shut the door, Daiki.”

He doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: It Begins with an Alliance 
> 
> The next chapter will definitely be longer, and a certain prince will encounter another certain prince.
> 
> Also, this isn't really that important to note, but I divided the story into 4 parts, almost, each with three chapters, and then one epilogue. So, after the third chapter, Section 1: It Begins will become Section 2: It Blossoms, and then etc, etc, etc, but I'd rather not give out the names of the sections, because there will be clear spoilers.


	3. It Begins with an Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This first section, It Begins, was basically establishing the setting and the inciting incident. I hope this chapter was more interesting, making up for the lack of intrigue in the second chapter! Once again, an advanced warning, but things will become very, VERY explicit in the following chapters (or from here on out), SO BE WARNED, those who are innocent and pure of heart! (I.e. not me) Please read the tags, all of them are included and will be constantly updated for a reason. 
> 
> Man, it’s much easier to write from Aomine’s perspective (albeit Kise being my bae). I guess because I relate to Aomine so much. He’s my spirit animal in terms of laziness and slacking. :3

_It begins with an alliance._

A day’s journey on horseback is needed to arrive at Kaijo, leaving Aomine Daiki lots of time to think. He feels a strange sense of numbness when recalling about the fact that he is going to be wed. He still hasn’t fully comprehended all that it entails.

There are going to be two beautiful women. He gets to choose from two famously beautiful women, and there is going to be an extravagant wedding. He will be expected, probably, to eventually produce an heir. Too and Kaijo will be united, and Daiki will have a beautiful queen to rule by his side. His father will be proud, Satsuki would be crying tears of joy, and citizens would rejoice. Everything would be all good.

So why isn’t Daiki happy? Why isn’t Daiki excited?

“Highness? Are you alright?”

Sakurai rides on a sturdy looking brown steed near the prince. He is still hesitant to speak to Daiki because of the guilt he feels for travelling back to Too without the prince all those months ago. Daiki doesn’t see anything wrong with what the servant did, but then again, Sakurai cannot be convinced otherwise once he has his mind set on the fact that he did something wrong.

“I’m fine, Sakurai.”

“Sorry, but we’re going back to Kaijo.”

“I know that.”

Sakurai hesitates. “Back then…if I may ask…where did you go? With the blond boy? Sorry!”

Daiki stares out at the landscape in silence. Vast, rolling green hills separate Kaijo from Too and for a moment, he feels so small compared to the rest of the world. He shuts his eyes and sees a moonlit sky, fair hair, and pale skin; feels sweet kisses and heated passion and blood racing through his veins. He hears desperate whispers and gasps; smells mint and the salt from sweat and ocean breezes.

He opens his eyes.

“We went to get a drink.”

“Oh.” Sakurai doesn’t seem convinced, but doesn’t prod any further.

The party arrives at the Kaijo castle by nightfall. The stars are bright in the sky, seemingly even brighter than in Too. The castle isn’t that of a typical palace; it is much more open and bright. It is made of smooth, white marble rather than the grey stones Too’s is constructed of. There are many large, arched windows to let in the light. The vast outer walls and elegantly crafted fountains are illuminated with colorful lights and torches to welcome Daiki and his travelling crew. He is accompanied by Satsuki, Sakurai, and a dozen guards. Kaijo is located by an ocean, and castle is on the outermost perimeter of the kingdom, right by the water. He finds it strange, as most palaces are located in the center of the kingdom, where all villages have an equal distance to travel. There is a massive, open bridge over the water connecting to another section of the castle on a small island.

Everything about the palace seems strangely…romantic. Dreamy. And beautiful; the castle is definitely beautiful.

The company is greeted urgently—and in a rather fake manner—by servants and guards alike, who usher them in with bright smiles.

Daiki is led through the halls, decorated by sea glass and shells on the walls with the occasional sword and crest. They enter the throne room, which has the biggest arching windows that Daiki has ever seen. He imagines it’ll be beautiful on a sunny day. They are told to wait as a servant fetches the king.

When the king enters, he moves at a leisurely pace to his throne and takes a moment to settle down on it. He is a very old man, probably in his seventies, and is the grandfather of the princesses and the prince. His white hair is combed back and kept in place with his crown, and his sea-green eyes look too smart and sharp for his appearance. He smiles with his mouth, but not his eyes. Fake. Just like the majority of Kaijo.

“Welcome!” He bellows, in a voice surprisingly strong for such an old man. “We’ve been expecting you!”

Everyone kneels. Daiki chooses to pick his ear.

“Kneel!” Satsuki hisses.

Daiki kneels.

The skin by the man’s eyes crinkle slightly. “Aomine Daiki-Ouji. We thank you for accepting our proposal for an alliance, and we thank your father as well.”

Daiki stands up again and nods, keeping his expression as expectant as possible.

The king of Kaijo clears his throat. “Shall I introduce to you my two lovely granddaughters now?”

“Yeah.” _That’s the kind of the purpose of my visit,_ Daiki bites his tongue.  

“Ryoko? Riyoka?”

The guards open the large doors to the throne room, and two _goddesses_ glide in.

_Holy heavens. Goddesses._

“These are my little princesses, Kise Ryoko and Kise Riyoka. This is Aomine Daiki-Ouji.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” both say at the same time, and smile. Suddenly, Daiki’s positive view of them falls. Just like the king, they are smiling with their mouths but not with their eyes. In both of their eyes are a terrible blankness, a boredom, a fear.

He thinks of different amber eyes; eyes lit by fire.

Wait…amber eyes?

Daiki scrutinizes both princesses without a word. One has blond hair the color of the sand on the beach, and green eyes to match her grandfather’s. The other has golden hair, amber eyes, and delicate features. Is that a defining trait of some Kaijo people? He understands, just as how Too’s citizens are mostly identified by their darker skin and darker hair, Kaijo’s people are identified by their fairer skin and fairer hair. Yet, they look so similar to the blond boy that Daiki almost cannot look at them anymore.

He bows, taking this opportunity to avert his gaze.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

***

“Kasamatsu-”

CLANG!

“-sensei!”

CLANG!

“What is it, Kise?”

CLANG!

Kise Ryouta huffs, twisting his sword to disarm his tutor and dropping to the floor in dramatic fatigue. He is sprawled on the sand of the beach, staring up at the night sky. It is a shade of blue so dark it nearly looks black; a colour that reminds him a bit too much of mesmerizing eyes he’d rather forget.

He hasn’t told anyone about that night, seemingly so distant in the past. He remembers his half-lie of drinking until he passed out, and his grandfather’s anger. Getting drunk and passing out was easier to say than getting drunk and sleeping with a stranger, and a _man_ at that. Sometimes he can still feel the stranger’s touches, so passionate, so _good_ …

Ryouta wraps his arms around himself, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind.

“I’m tired,” he complains as his tutor offers him a hand and he sits up. “Can we finish up?”

Kasamatsu sits next to him, staring out at the ocean. “Yeah. You did well today.”

Ryouta turns to him, startled by the rare compliment, and points to himself, wide-eyed. “Me?”

Choosing not to answer with words but rather with a swift kick, Kasamatsu confirms that yes, Ryouta did well today. “Who else, idiot?”

“You’re so mean,” the prince complains, half meaning it, half joking. He turns to his tutor, whose bright azure eyes are filled with contemplation. His short dark hair rustles in the ocean breeze.

“You’re worrying,” Ryouta notes. “About the Seiren rumours.”

Kasamatsu shakes his head and claps the prince lightly on the back. “Nothing to worry about. Not when the kingdom has you, eh? Our ace.”

“Well I’m apparently not enough,” the prince blurted out, a little too bitterly. He realizes his mistake as soon as his tutor’s expression becomes outward concern and quickly plasters an amused smile on his face.

“Your sisters are choosing to marry of their own free will. Being allied with Too will definitely ensure our safety. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Ryouta forces out a laugh and scratches the back of his head, making sure to squint his eyes so that Kasamatsu cannot see his how worried he himself is.

_Fake. I need to be fake. If I’m not, he’ll be concerned for me._

He recalls the leg injury he had about a month ago, and how stressed Kasamatsu was because of it, believing it was his fault for overworking the prince. Ryouta does not want to worry him to that extent again.

“Anyway!” Ryouta bounces up onto his feet and brushes the sand off of his clothes. “I’m sure the prince has chosen between Riyoka-cchi and Ryoko-cchi by now! Why don’t we head start heading back home? Let’s go greet Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome.”

He is well aware of the rumours surrounding Aomine Daiki of Too. Handsome, languid, and devilish, a real ladies man and a playboy without responsibility. A naturally skilled warrior, but without the ambition or desire to further hone his skills. Ryouta is worried for his sisters’ happiness as Aomine Daiki does not seem like the type to happily settle down with a wife.

Because of his outburst of protestation the other day, Ryouta is forbidden by his grandfather to be in the castle during the arrival of Too’s prince until he cools off. Ryouta finds that ridiculous.

“Yeah, let’s get back.” Kasamatsu stands and prods him along.

Every time Kasamatsu pokes him, the prince’s feeling of unease grows. He cannot fathom his anxiety.

_Looks like I won’t be getting much sleep tonight._

***

Aomine Daiki asks for a night to mull over his decision, and his request is granted. The two princesses smile politely and falsely all the while, decreasingly like goddesses and increasingly like dolls. They are beautiful but fake, and the taller one resembles the blond fighter a bit too much for his liking.

He doesn’t want someone who _looks_ like the blond. He doesn’t want a fake. He wants the real thing.

 _“They’re so beautiful,”_ Satsuki had said. _“You’d be lucky to get either of them.”_

“ _Wow,”_ Sakurai had said. _“I just-wow. Sorry!”_

 _“Oi,”_ Imayoshi, one of Daiki’s best—and most suspicious—guards had said _. “Go for the hotter one!”_

After duly saying goodnights to his company, Daiki is led to a lovely, lavish guest room with pale blue walls, sandy colored tiles, and a window with an ocean view. He feels less like he is in a palace and more like he is in an exotic resort of some kind. His wall is adorned with different but expensive-looking pieces of art.

He sits on the soft bed and notices a bowl of fruit atop a vanity. He reaches for an apple, only to find out that it is made of Styrofoam. Why are there Styrofoam fruits in a room? For aesthetics? That’s ridiculous.

Daiki is provided a change of clothes and after a shower, he heads right to bed to find that he cannot fall asleep. He feels extremely and unnecessarily anxious. Is it because tomorrow he will have to make a choice that will define the rest of his life?

Possibly.

There is an urgent feeling in him, however, telling him to get up, to go for a walk, to _move_. So he does. He exits his unguarded room and wanders the hallways. Unlike his castle, Kaijo’s palace is not guarded at every nook and cranny. He supposes it could indicate carelessness and lack of safety, but Daiki depicts it as freedom and trust. Albeit this fact, he knows that there are guards stationed at every possible entrance and exit into and out of the castle. Moonlight streams in from the windows, bathing everything in a luminous, soft blue.

Every door he passes is closed except for one he stumbles across on the highest level of the castle. The room door is wide open, and he can hear the sound of waves crashing along the shore of the beach. He peers inside, and room appears to be empty.

The room looks as if it belongs to someone very important. It is huge and as pristine as his father’s, except for the unmade bed. The glass doors to the balcony are wide open and curtains are fluttering with the draft from the night.

Daiki knows he probably shouldn’t enter without permission, especially if the room belongs to someone important.

He does so anyway.

Behind the sway of the curtains, he sees a side-view of a silhouette, distinctly masculine, leaning against the utmost right side of the semi-circle shaped railing.

Well. That rules out the room belonging to either princess. Suddenly, a horrible thought of the room belonging to that loud, phony-smile old king enters Daiki’s mind.

He takes a step back, prepared to bolt, when a strong draft suddenly blows the curtains way up towards the ceiling. Daiki catches a glimpse of the person on the balcony…

And freezes.

The world freezes.

Every hazy memory from that night comes flashing back to him as someone who is close to death experiences their life flashing before their eyes.

The intrigue.

The awe.

The fight.

The heartbeats.

The passion.

The heat.

The whispers.

The gasps.

The warmth.

The pleasure.

The blond.

_The blond._

Daiki stares, can only stare, at the moonlit profile of the boy. That hair. That fine hair like sunshine, the colour of warmth, the colour of happiness. That skin. That fair skin, all peaches and cream and smooth softness. And those eyes.

_Those eyes._

Daiki yearns to see those eyes again, yearns to see the inner light, the inner _flame_ that made his blood race and his breath catch in his throat. Presently, those eyes are gazing out into the distance, the blond’s expression that of deep consideration. His eyebrows are furrowed and his pink, enticing lips are pulled down into a frown.

The prince of Too cannot move. He doesn’t understand-

As if he could sense he was being watched, the blond turns suddenly. Daiki’s heart skips a beat. Their eyes meet, and—

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

The blond squints.

Blink.

Blink.

Daiki watches as those pretty amber eyes widen impossibly wide then, to the size of golden coins, and the blond slowly turns red. His cheeks flush (adorably, if Daiki might add) and he blinks once more. He is like an owl; big, wide, blinking eyes. Daiki can tell that the blond isn’t sure if he’s actually here, and suddenly, for some reason, the prince of Too waves.

_Waves? Did I really just wave? How lame!_

The blond’s eyes narrow again into the narrowest slits possible. He freezes, and Daiki cannot even hear his breath.

Then: “What are you doing here?!”

“Your room door was open,” is what Daiki hears himself muster up, strangely nonchalant.

_Huh? What? What am I saying? Why did I say that?_

“I mean here! _Here!_ In this castle!” A shadow crosses the blond’s face suddenly, and he stops with the shouting and flailing hands, his voice suddenly growing serious.

“Wait. Are you…Aomine Daiki?”

Daiki nods.

The blond goes still as if he is having an information overload. Then he moves, and he looks as if he is choking on his own disbelief. He is red as a tomato. “You’re—marrying my sister!”

This is weird. This is incomprehensibly weird. Kise Ryouta has no idea how to act in this situation. The man. The man he slept with is Aomine Daiki, of all people.

_He slept with Aomine Daiki._

_Oh my God. I’m going to die._

“Sister?” Aomine asks. “You’re…you’re Kise Ryouta?”

Ryouta doesn’t respond, still in shock. Belatedly, he realizes that Aomine Daiki is _in his room_ , and he feels his face heat up even further.

_“You’re so good, so good. You feel so good.”_

_“Spread your legs a little more for me, won’t you?”_

_“Agh, you’re so tight, so hot.”_

_Oh my God. I’m going to die,_ Ryouta thinks again _._ He takes a step back until his legs are flush against the railing of the balcony, averting his gaze from Aomine. He feels strangely vulnerable, strangely exposed, and strangely guilty for disappearing the morning after.

Aomine takes a step towards the balcony.

“Kise Ryouta,” he whispers, and suddenly the confused, awkward puppy is gone and the familiarly charming stranger from the underground arena is back. “The name suits you.”

Ryouta feels trapped, and yet…

“Wait,” he says desperately as Aomine takes another step closer, his voice too husky and quiet for his own liking. “Wait.”

His brain isn’t functioning properly right now, not with the man so close to him. Aomine’s eyes match the midnight sky perfectly and his short hair is artfully windswept by the breeze. He is wearing a black sleeveless shirt and grey sweatpants, his feet and arms bare.

Tanned skin and _those arms_ …those arms around him that night…

_“Don’t bite your lip; let me hear you.”_

_“Mm…such soft lips, so sweet…”_

“I-I…” Ryouta is aware that he probably looks like a gaping fish right now, his mouth opening and closing.  He feels embarrassment and shock and awkwardness, but to his terror, above all, he feels desire.

“Aomine…Daiki…” he chokes out, and suddenly patience snaps. His patience or Aomine’s, he cannot recall but before Ryouta knows it, he is staggering, and then Aomine is staggering, and suddenly they are on the floor, the blond atop the prince of Too.

They are kissing; hot, desperate kisses, and Aomine’s body is so warm, and he is kissing Aomine’s jaw, Aomine’s neck, their bodies flush against one another. He slips his hand under the other boy’s shirt, feeling the taut, hard muscles and the heat of the body. Aomine’s own hand finds its way to Ryouta’s back, trailing down lower and lower and finally slipping into his pants. Ryouta moans against Aomine’s lips in pleasure at the touch. Teasing, feather-light touches of the hand suddenly stop and then he squeezes and Ryouta gasps involuntarily. His breathing is becoming more shallow and frantic, and then—

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

_What? What were we just doing?_

Ryouta pulls back, drawing away from contact with the other prince. He sits up, fixing the waistband of his pants and hiding his face (and his boner. Aomine makes no effort to conceal either.)

“What?” he asks, his gaze hungry. “What is it?”

“Um.” Ryouta’s voice is thick. He swallows, takes a deep breath, and says, “My name is Kise Ryouta. Nice meeting you. You can go now.”

“ _WHAT??”_

“You can’t. You can’t tell my sisters that we know each other, that we…” His voice trails off. “That we, you know. You can’t hurt them, either.”

The words take a moment to register in Daiki’s head, and then reason rushes back to him.

Oh, no. _No._ He doesn’t want Kise’s sisters, he wants Kise. He finally finds Kise after so long, and Daiki is being prepared to marry one of his sisters? Fate is mocking him.

“I-I don’t—”

The air suddenly changes around the blond, and Daiki can almost see actual walls rising around him. Kise smiles at him then, and his blood runs cold.

It’s a beautiful smile, a dazzling smile, but it’s _fake._

“We’re going to be brothers-in-law, so let’s get along!” His voice is suddenly too cheerful, too saccharine to belong to the fierce, blazing fighter from the ring. “Maybe we can even spar again!”

_No, no, no. You don’t be fake to me. You can’t be fake to me._

Kise is smiling with his mouth, but not with his eyes. This time it’s different, though. Different from the king and the sisters. In his eyes isn't empty lack of emotion that exists in the others.

Instead, there is a fire, and even through the false façade, Daiki can feel its heat. He wants to burn in it.

The prince of Kaijo yawns then, a real but forced yawn, and smiles that fake smile again. “I’m really tired now, Aomine-cchi, so if you don’t mind I’m going to bed.”

“…Aomine- _cchi?”_

“I’m super tired.” The blond yawns again.

Daiki stares pointedly at Kise’s boner, and Kise flushes. He crawls into his bed and pulls up his covers all the way to his chin. “Goodnight.”

“Uh huh, uh huh.” Daiki waits a while until he cools down and then stands up.

“Goodnight, _Kise_ ,” he says, in a mocking way he knows will provoke the blond.

He exits, deliberately not closing the door.

“Close the door!” Kise calls out, and Daiki smiles in triumph for having irked him.

He closes the door anyway.

_Dammit! Why did I listen to him?_

***

The throne room is as beautiful as Daiki expected it would be in the morning. The sun shines through, brightening the floors and through the windows, he can see the ocean glittering. He is definitely not a morning person, but the view is worth it.

The view he is referring to isn’t the sunlit throne room. It’s _who is in_ the sunlit throne room. Kise is standing next to his grandfather, his blond hair even fairer and almost glowing in the morning light. Daiki absentmindedly wonders how the people of Kaijo are so fair with all the sunlight and sea. He notices then, in surprise, that Kise is wearing an earring in his left ear; a small silver hoop. It’s strangely attractive.

Kise has a fake smile on his face while talking quietly to a short dark haired man who appears to be a teacher of some sort. Clearly, he is aware of Daiki’s presence, but he is careful to avoid his gaze. Daiki smirks. As the two princesses enter, Kise greets them brightly—with forced bubbliness. Had Daiki met him like this, he would have loathed the blond, no matter how pretty he was. But he has seen the real Kise Ryouta. He knows what lies underneath, and if Kise wants to put up all these walls, then bring it. Daiki will knock them down.

The king enters last, taking his time to settle onto the throne. Everyone kneels. Daiki picks his ear.

“Not funny, Dai-chan,” Satsuki hisses.

Daiki kneels, knowing full well that he caught Kise’s attention.

“Aomine-ouji!” The old king bellows with his empty eyes and false smile. “How was your night? Restful, I hope?”

Daiki catches Kise looking at him. He grins mischievously and tries to meet the blond’s eyes. Kise looks away, at his own feet.

“I had a great night,” he says, nodding. “I had time to…think.”

“Great! Did you decide?”

Silence. Daiki clears his throat. “I’m going to clarify the terms. If Too agrees to ally with and support Kaijo, then I get to choose one of your grandchildren to marry.”

“Correct.” The king looks mildly confused.

“Well, what about him?”

“Huh?” Now the king looks very confused. He follows Daiki’s finger to his grandson.

“Can I marry Kise Ryouta?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: It Blossoms with Bickering. 
> 
> Damn, I think my love for the ocean snuck its way into this chapter and etched itself into Kise’s castle. I was gonna make the reunion all dramatic and whatnot, but then I decided on awkward. Cuz they’re my awkward turtleducks. 
> 
> On an unrelated note, I started watching D. Gray-Man! It’s really good, and my favourite character is Lavi, although he has yet to make an appearance in the anime. (What? I don’t like him just because he has a hoop earring in his left ear like Kise; that’s a ridiculous and shallow reason! :3) Anyway, thanks for reading and I’ll see you next chapter!


	4. It Blossoms With Bickering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Terribly sorry for the short, boring, and rapid chapter (which was also difficult as hell to write and with way too much dialogue). School is swamping me and so is work (I'm a lifeguard and a swim instructor) but I've been trying to keep up with writing on the side. I actually planned on posting 2 chapters simultaneously to make up for how short and quite frankly, terrible, this chapter is, but I'm still not finished the next chapter (like 3/4 done?) and I feel bad for making you guys wait. 
> 
> So, I'm sorry! (Sorry I keep apologizing, I feel like Sakurai)  
> Expect the next chapter (which will be better, I promise) to be posted over the weekend, since I'm like 3/4 done!

_It blossoms with bickering._

“Can I marry Kise Ryouta?”

The room goes silent. Daiki’s eyes are fixed on Kise, who has gone white and is now slowly going red. The false smile of his falls and his amber eyes slowly raise to meet midnight blue ones.

A moment passes. Then another.

Daiki suddenly feels like an idiot. Still, he refuses to budge.

A forced laugh echoes in the throne room, and all eyes turn to Kise who is smiling and scratching the back of his head bashfully.

“Aomine-cchi, you’re so funny!”

“I’m not joking—”

“He’s joking.”

“I’m not—”

“He is.”

“ _Kise_.”

“ _Aomine-cchi_.”

One of the princesses, the taller one who resembles Kise greatly, speaks up. “Are you two…acquainted?”

“We’re not,” Kise says quickly; a bit too quickly, and everyone seems to notice. “He’s just intimidated, right Aomine-cchi? He’s intimidated by how beautiful you are, aneue.”

His eyes flash back to Daiki, filled with challenge.

“Intimidated,” the blond repeats in a honey-sweet voice.

“The agreement technically doesn’t specify which of my grandchildren you can choose,” the old king of Kaijo states suddenly, his face still a painting of confusion.

“Then I’m allowed.”

“Dai-chan?” Satsuki whispers. “What are you doing?”

Daiki feels slightly bad for putting Kise on the spot like this, but he is serious. He will not marry one of Kise’s sisters after finally finding the blond.

“I’m…I’m a man,” Kise says weakly. He is beginning to lose his composure, mild panic revealing itself in his eyes.

The ring his father gave him for the proposal to a princess is in his pocket. Daiki walks over to Kise who is wide-eyed and bathed in sun rays. Slowly lowering himself to one knee, Daiki’s eyes never leave Kise’s face. He knows the audience must be shocked, scandalized, even, but he doesn’t care. He pulls out the ring from his pocket and the diamond catches the sunlight, refracting a multitude of colours. He holds it up and says in a clear, unwavering voice:

“Kise Ryouta, will you marry me?”

Daiki doesn’t really know what he expects. For the prince of Kaijo to accept? Unlikely. Yet he hopes.

He watches the emotions play across the blond’s face. There is shock; shock from the impulsive proposal. Then there is a strange wistfulness that dances in his eyes, and Daiki feels an impelling hope. That hope, however, is crushed by a resolute denial that set itself into the blond’s face.

The next events seem to occur in slow motion. He feels Kise’s hand on his shoulder, watches Kise’s lips move.

_“You’re so funny, Aomine-cchi.”_

He brushes past Daiki and exits the throne room.

Silence. A wallow of disappointment. Daiki senses the discomfort in the company.

“Uh, Aomine-Ouji, that was…unexpected.” The king is looking at him peculiarly, with a strange amusement and interest. “It may have been a bit of a surprise for my boy.”

“I meant it.”

“Um, I’m just wondering,” the shorter princess said, still smiling. “Why Ryouta?”

Why? Why Kise Ryouta, anyway? Why does Daiki feel himself turning around, hear his feet pounding on the stone tiles of the floor as he runs after the blond?

“Kise!” He shouts, his voice echoing in the halls. “Kise!”

He passes a guard who stops him abruptly. “Aomine Ouji-sama, if I may, Kise Ryouta headed to the seashore just a while ago.”

The seashore.

***

Kise is nowhere to be found. Daiki stops by the ocean, the incoming tides drenching his sandals, and stares out in all directions.

Then he feels something cold and sharp against the back of his neck.

“Fight me,” Kise whispers into his ear, his breath warm against Daiki’s skin. “One on one.”

“No, Kise.”

“ _Fight me_.”

“I said, _no_.”

“Why not?” Daiki feels the blade leaving his neck, but he doesn’t relax. He turns around to face the prince of Kaijo. His blue tunic is covered in sand and his amber eyes are dark as honey. “You’ve just come to embarrass me further, haven’t you?”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“Your smirk back there told me otherwise. Are you angry that I didn’t lose my composure, _Aomine-cchi_?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“What do you want me to call you? _Daiki_?”

The name sounds like music coming from Kise’s lips, even while stated in such a mocking manner.

“I don’t get it,” Daiki says finally. “Why can’t we be married? I want you and _I know_ you want me, too.”

_I know you want me, too._

Kise is silenced by that comment. Suddenly all the hostility, sparked by humiliation, seems to leave his body. He sits down on the sand looking very weary.

“You don’t know what I want,” he says finally.

Daiki slowly sits down next to the blond, his bare arm brushing against Kise’s. He watches the boy shiver.

“Then tell me what you want, Kise.”

“I _want you_ to understand that I’m a man like you, that I’m an heir like you. We are responsible for marrying a woman, producing heirs, and keeping the royal bloodline alive.”

Daiki blinks. “You think I give two shits about _responsibility_?”

“You should, of all people. I have sisters, but you’re an only child, right?”

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you what my responsibility is. It’s travelling to Kaijo and asking to wed a member of the Kise family. I did that. My responsibility is fulfilled, so stop using that as an excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“It is.”

“It’s _not_.”

“It _is_.”

Daiki leans forward, meeting Kise’s amber eyes. “Give me a valid reason why we shouldn’t be married.”

The blond throws up his arms suddenly. “What will people think? What will my sisters think?”

“Who gives a shit what they think? _That’s_ your issue?”

“That’s a valid reason! Besides, we don’t even know each other!”

“Oh, I think we know each other well enough.”

He watches a blush rise to Kise’s cheeks as the blond averts his eyes. He feels bad for embarrassing Kise again, but he just _adores_ the reaction he gets; the endearing and painful shyness.

“Tell you what,” Daiki says, standing up and brushing off his clothes. “You wanted to fight? Let’s fight.”

The prince of Kaijo regards him dubiously. “What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

“If you win, I’ll leave you be. I’ll marry one of your sisters, if that’s what you want. But if I win, you have to say yes to my proposal. How does that sound?”

Kise is silent, staring up at him with wide eyes. Then slowly, an incredulous look passes across his face and he stands as well, unsheathing his sword. “You…you think you can win against me twice?”

Daiki shrugs carelessly, grinning. “The only one who can beat me is me.”

“You’re real full of yourself, _Aomine-cchi_.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you,” Kise smirks and draws a circle in the air with his blade, “whatever I want.”

“Alright then, _Ryouta_.” He watches the blond stiffen in surprise at the name. “You good with the terms?”

“Oh, I’m _great_ with the terms.”

Ten minutes later, and Kise is lying on the floor with a blade at his throat. His amber eyes flash furiously, all the saccharine, bubbly demeanor gone.

“Again,” he insists, breathing hard. “Fight me again.”

Daiki almost wants to. His blood is racing, his heart is pounding, and he feels as if a single movement will cause him to burst with excitement. There are few people he can spar with on equal footing, and Kise is one of them. This is the Kise from the arena so long ago; the one who is honest and real and aflame, even lying on the floor, defeated. This is the real Kise.

“You agreed to the terms.” Daiki withdraws the blade and offers a hand. His mind flashes back to their fight in the arena months ago, and knows he is paralleling the same actions as before.

Kise stares at the hand for a moment, sitting up. Then he meets Daiki’s eyes.

He takes the hand and stands up. Daiki doesn’t let go.

“I agreed to the terms,” Kise repeats uncertainly.  

“Then marry me, Kise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: It Blossoms With a Date (and then one more It Blossoms and finally the good stuff :3) 
> 
> You know what I’ve realized is that I’ve kind of organized this whole fic like one of Shakespeare’s plays. Five acts comprised of different scenes. My five sections are similar to the five acts, and my chapters are similar to the different scenes. Inciting incident in Act 1, climax in Act 3, etc., etc. Just so you know how it’s formatted. (And then an epilogue). So right now, the It Blossoms, is Act 2 (the most boring, sorry :3) Act 3, It Changes, is when it’ll get super explicit, so pls be warned. This is my final warning. 
> 
> I finally finished planning out the whole story, though! I know every plot event that I’m going to write, so I feel so fulfilled and satisfied, and I can’t wait to share the whole story with you guys. 
> 
> For those wondering about certain tags (particularly a/b/o and mpreg), I’m super sorry you’ll have to be patient. All the answers will be revealed in Act 3, It Changes. So, bear with me and wait a tad longer for It Blossoms to finish. It Blossoms is necessary for further establishing their relationship and solidifying a few more things. (Believe me, I’m also excited to hurry up and get It Blossoms over with so I can begin writing the *echem* fun stuff).


	5. It Blossoms With a Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments; they mean a lot to me!
> 
> WARNING: SOMEWHAT EXPLICIT AT THE BEGINNING PLS LEAVE THOSE WHO WISH TO RETAIN THEIR PURITY AND INNOCENCE! Sorry about calling the King of Kaijo Grandpapi; my love for Gintama keeps showing up here and there in such discreet ways. 
> 
> On an unrelated note, I’m reading The Book Thief and ugh, it’s so well-written, so beautiful, so poetic. It’s also so interesting how it’s narrated by Death; I love that idea.

_It blossoms with a date._

The date when one becomes engaged is a date one should remember, but at the moment, that doesn’t really matter.

Nothing really matters but Kise.  

The room is dark and unfamiliar, but all Daiki can focus on is golden hair, soft skin, and heat. There is a bed. There is a wall. The blond is up against the wall, groaning as Daiki kisses his lips, his cheek, his neck. There are incoherent murmurs, incoherent sounds, and suddenly they are stumbling towards the bed. Clothes are flying off. The two boys are both sweaty and flushed, dark skin against fair skin.

Daiki pulls away breathing hard, staring down at Kise whose eyes are dark with desire and desperation. He is staring back up at Daiki, cheeks colored an enticing red and his full, moist lips are parted slightly.

“I want you,” Daiki hears himself say, his voice husky and low, and at that point Kise tries to scramble up. The blond seems nervous, embarrassed and uncoordinated in his drunken movements.

“I want you,” Daiki repeats. “Don’t you want me, too?”

“I…” Kise looks at him, then bites his lower lip and looks down. “I do.”

They are both naked and both hard as rocks. Daiki takes a moment, barely comprehending Kise’s answer in his slight alcoholic stupor, and resumes the kissing. Slower this time around, the Prince of Too plants a kiss on the blond’s jaw, just by his lips, and slowly trails down to his neck. He worships down to Kise’s nipples where he pauses for a moment, listening to the blond’s breathing.

It was fast, hitched breaths that increases as Daiki begins rubbing his hard cock on Kise’s soft, strong legs. He resumes his worship, placing a kiss on one of Kise’s nipples and is hugely turned on by the breathy sound the blond makes.

“Don’t,” the blond gasps, his hands trying to push the other man away. “It feels,” another gasp, “weird. I-”

His sentence ends abruptly as Daiki sucks on the nipple, causing Kise to arch his back as a moan escapes his lips.

It is the best sound Daiki has ever heard.

“Shit,” he murmurs, his voice thick with want for the blond. “You like this, don’t you? So sensitive.”

The blond turns his head to the side, trying to hide his face as Daiki pinches his other nipple. He plays with them for a moment, relishing in the whimpers Kise is attempting to conceal. He is biting down hard on his full lower lip, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and denial.

Daiki’s kisses trail down even lower, but he does not miss the shaky breath of yearning that leaves Kise’s lips as his nipples are neglected.

It is so hot, and both of their bodies are burning up. Daiki stops his kisses right before Kise’s hard cock, and Kise squirms. He pushes the blond’s legs apart even more, watching amber eyes widen in surprise and discomfiture.

“Spread your legs for me,” Daiki says.

Kise is silent and still for a moment. He swallows once and shuts his eyes tightly in shame and desire. Slowly, he moves his legs further apart, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

Oh, it is a sight to behold. Daiki’s throat is going dry, and as he slowly leans forward—

_“Dai-chan!”_

Aomine Daiki is startled awake from his pleasant memory of a dream. He is startled awake with a terrible case of morning wood.

Why was he dreaming about that one night with Kise, so long ago? Is it because he and Kise are going to be married?

Probably.

“Dai-chan!” Momoi Satsuki repeats. She is in his guest room, marching up to his bed with a frown on her face. “Stop sleeping in! You didn’t come home until so late last night! What was up with yesterday?!”

Too late, Daiki realizes that she is about to rip the covers off his bed.

“Wait, Satsuki—!”

His boner makes an awkward tent shape in his pants. Satsuki goes red and she turns away, gagging. “Dai-chan! What even were you dreaming about last night? You know what? Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

She throws the covers back on top of him just as he is about to complain about her bursting into his room without permission. The covers fall over his head and he pushes it away, grumbling under his breath about how she has nothing better to do than to come and bother him in the morning, and how it’s her fault that she saw his erection.

“So? Are you going to tell me where you ran off to yesterday? Did you run off to apologize to Kise-Ouji?”

“What?” Daiki grumbled, rubbing a hand across the back of his head, trying to get the vivid image of Kise gasping beneath him out of his head. He cannot concentrate with such a distraction taunting him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know. Your not-so-funny little joke of offending the Kaijo princesses and mocking the prince by ‘proposing’ to him. You really owe an apology to the princesses, too.” She put air quotes around the word, “proposing.”

“How many times do I need to tell all of you that it wasn’t a joke?”

“What? Stop kidding around.”

“He said yes. Kise said he’ll marry me.”

_“What?!”_

***

“Rise and shine, Ryouta!”

His sister barges into his room unannounced but expected, prying open the curtains of his windows as she does daily.

Contrary to popular belief, Ryouta is not a morning person. For some reason, people are so surprised when he won’t awaken, when he curls up in bed and grumbles at whoever is in his room to leave. Now, more than ever, Ryouta does not want to wake up. He does not want to face the day and the announcement he will have to make. If he could just drift off back into pleasant dreams…

“Ryouta! Wake up!” His sister pulls the covers of his bed off and Ryouta groans irritably.

“You and Aomine-Ouji were out all day! You guys didn’t arrive back until late at night! What happened? Was he kidding about the whole marriage thing yesterday?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryouta mumbles, his face in his pillow. “Who’s Ryouta? I’m Moriyama. Let me go to sleep. Ryouta’s probably in a different room.”

“Come on, you lazy butt.”

“Ugh,” Ryouta groans again and forces himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes. His sister smiles at him, walking over and mussing up his bedhead even further.

“Grandpapi wants to see you, baby brother.”

She leaves his room promptly as two servants enter. They offer to help him, but Ryouta declines, wanting some time alone. They leave without objection and the blond is left to himself in his room. As Ryouta showers and changes into his daily attire, a feeling of dread grows within him.

He walks up to a mirror and stares. An amber-eyed, tired looking young man stares back. Ryouta knows that he is what one would consider “classically handsome.” The straight, clean features, the height, the golden hair, broad shoulders and long eyelashes. All his life, he has been satisfied with his looks, with being a classic guy.

After meeting Aomine, however, he knows there is a different type of handsome; one that is perhaps more enticing. Ryouta can feel his face heat up as he recalls that tanned skin, those dark eyes, that devil-may-care grin, the dangerous air to his seemingly harmless lethargy. That’s the type of handsome Ryouta classifies as rugged, as charming, as cool. He wishes to be that kind of handsome. But he is not.

Ryouta exhales slowly, trying to calm his jittery nerves. He forces his mouth up into a smile and says, “ _Aomine-cchi and I are getting married_!”

No. Too forced. Too excited, especially after what happened in the courtroom yesterday. He tries again. The statement needs to contain cheerfulness definitely, but perhaps less excitement and more anticipation.

“Aomine-cchi and I are getting married!”  

Better; a bit better. His eyes look terrified in the mirror, though. He needs to squint his eyes, perhaps, to hide the emotion behind it. He tries one last time.

“Aomine-cchi and I are getting married!”

There. Perfect. The only thing Ryouta needs to keep in mind when he makes his announcement is not to look into Aomine’s eyes. There’s something about those midnight eyes that puts Ryouta at unease; it’s as if those eyes can see right through all the masks Ryouta puts on. It makes him feel vulnerable, exposed.

There is a knock on the door, and a servant calls out. “Kise Ouji-sama? Are you ready? The king is impatiently calling for you.”

“Yeah.” Ryouta turns away from the mirror.

“I’m ready.”

***

Ryouta doesn’t get to say what he prepared for, because Aomine beats him to it.

“Kise Ryouta and I are getting married.” 

The entire room is silent, and Ryouta is overly aware of everyone in here who heard Aomine’s statement. There is Aomine’s party, consisting of an impossibly lovely girl with petal pink hair, a pleasant but rather timid looking brown haired boy, and two soldiers; an evil looking one with glasses and a tall, perpetually frowning blond. There are also people Ryouta is familiar with; his sisters, Grandpapi, Kasamatsu, and Moriyama.

Etched onto all their faces are expressions of extreme disbelief.

“He’s telling the truth,” Ryouta says, attempting a smile. He hopes it doesn’t look like a grimace. “I accepted.”

“This is…your choice?” Grandpapi asks, regarding both of them dubiously.

“It is!” Another smile.

“Well err, alright then?” Grandpapi’s statement sounds more like a question of uncertainty. Still, Ryouta is surprised when he hears Aomine breathe a sigh of relief.

Was he nervous?

For some reason, Ryouta finds that surprising.

Another moment of awkward silence passes before Grandpapi clears his throat and announces: “Kise Ryouta and Aomine Daiki are to be married in a month.” He turns to one of the guards standing next to his throne. “Announce this to the townspeople and send a message to the other kingdoms that Too and Kaijo are now not only allied, but united.”

The guard nods and hurries off, his posture perfectly straight as if there’s a stick up his butt.

Well. That was awkward and much easier than Ryouta expected. But…

“In…in a month?” He asks, keeping his voice light. He refuses to look at his sisters, to meet their eyes. He is sure he will see incredulity, confusion, and perhaps even a bit of concern.

The throne room is bright in the morning, with sun streaming in as usual, and Grandpappy answers. “A month is sufficient enough for documentation, preparation, and becoming acquainted, is it not?”

“Yeah.” Aomine’s eyes are half-lidded, as if he is about to fall asleep. “That’s enough time. Kise? What do you think?”

“Uh, sure, Aomine-cchi! It’s a great amount of time.”

***

“A month is way too quick, don’t you think?”

After leaving the throne room, Daiki and Kise are walking back together to Kise’s room, because Kise insists on changing his clothes before giving Daiki a tour of the castle and of Kaijo, as promised.

“What’s wrong with it?”

Kise pauses, then shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“That’s stupid logic and I think you know it.”

Outside of the courtroom, Kise isn’t acting so fake, with his fake smiles and fake cheeriness that irk Daiki. He enjoys it when Kise is honest, if not a bit cynical, as he is now.

They reach Kise’s room, and as the blond ducks into the bathroom to change, Daiki is left standing awkwardly and staring around at the room. It’s nice, and he remembers the night of their awkward reunion such a short while ago.

Knowing it is unethical to snoop, Daiki does so anyway. He walks over to a bookshelf littered with awards and books, the only unorganized part of this peaceful room. He picks up a random book; navy blue in colour and without a title or cover picture. He opens it, and to his surprise, it is a photo album.

A photo album of Kise’s life.

Oh, this is too juicy an opportunity to pass up.

Daiki grabs the book and plops down on Kise’s unmade bed. The first few pages are filled with an infant Kise and _damn_ , he was the cutest baby Daiki has ever seen. Baby Kise is all smiles and chubby cheeks and messy blond hair and pictures where he is trying to look tough. There are photographs of him in diapers, crawling on the floor.

There are also pictures of him as a child with missing teeth and hair in desperate need of haircuts. He notices many of the snapshots are with other people; his sisters, a beautiful golden haired couple, the grumpy-looking dark haired guy who Daiki now knows is Kasamatsu, and his grandpa. Daiki sees a photograph of Kise as a child sitting in a foamy bathtub with such an awkward expression that Daiki bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Kise asks, exiting the bathroom in plain trousers and a blue shirt. He notices what Daiki has in his hands and his amber eyes widen. “Oh, no. Give that back.”

He walks towards the bed and reaches out to take the picture album away, but Daiki stretches his hand back so that it is out of reach.

“Aomine-cchi!”

He reaches again, but Daiki’s reflexes are quick, and Kise loses his balance, falling atop him.

“Mm,” Daiki says with a sly humour. “Falling all over me. You really want _it_ that bad?”

By _it_ , he is not referring to the book, and he sees that Kise connects the dots when he flushes red to the tip of his ears. He stands up quickly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That book is private and embarrassing and I want it back.”

“Nope.” Daiki is grinning as he flips the page and continues scanning it rapidly with his eyes, trying to memorize as many pictures as possible. At this point, Kise lunges at him, a surprise attack, and the book is knocked out of his hands.

They both let loose war cries as a race towards the book begins. Luckily, Daiki gets there first, and snatches the book up from the ground.

“I won’t let you have it, Kise!!!”

His voice trails off then as he looks down at the page the book is opened at. A single photo fills up the space. There are two people in the photograph: Kise, and an older man who starkly resembles him. His hair, shades darker than Kise’s, is dark gold; what one would describe as ash blond. There are laughter lines faint on his handsome, dignified face and he seems to be in the middle of laughing, his eyes shut like a grin and his mouth open jovially. His arm is around Kise, who appears to be a few years younger than he currently is, perhaps around fourteen or fifteen. Kise doesn’t look much different in the snapshot except for one thing.

He is smiling.

This smile isn’t like any smile Daiki has seen on the blond’s face thus far.

Daiki has never seen anything more beautiful.

Everything about the smile is unconscious, unplanned. His eyes are crinkled adorably, his eyelashes carving a curve into his cheeks, and his smile is slightly uneven, an adorable lopsided beam with one side higher than the other with cute dimples by the corners of his mouth. The best part about the smile is that he looks genuinely happy, like a boy without a care in the world.

Daiki wants to see that expression on Kise’s face. He wants to make Kise smile like that.

“That’s my dad,” the blond says, and his voice shakes a bit. “Dead now, I’m sure you know, but the kind of guy who was always happy. I want to be like him.”

He takes the book away then, and Daiki lets him.

“Come on,” Kise says, and smiles. Daiki hates that smile more than ever, that perfectly even, perfectly calculated, perfectly charming, perfectly false smile. It is nothing compared to the smile he saw in the photo album. “Let’s begin your tour.”

***

They tour the castle on the first day, and then parts of the villages in Kaijo over the next few days. During this time, Daiki also takes the opportunity to learn more about Kise and consequently, more about himself.

Daiki learns that Kise is easily embarrassed, especially regarding matters about public appearance.

Daiki learns that Kise is uneasy about the wedding because, despite his interest in Daiki, he is worried about what people will think.

Daiki learns that Kise hates earthworms and finds them disgusting.

Daiki learns that Kise has had a few girlfriends, nothing too serious.

Daiki learns that Kise’s favourite food is onion gratin soup.

Daiki learns that if Kise wasn’t a prince, he’d be a pilot.

Daiki learns that Kise cares deeply about what his sisters think of him.

Daiki learns that Kise loves to spar with Daiki and that he is beautiful when he fights.

Daiki learns that he, too, relishes in sparing with Kise because it has been so long since he has had an opponent of equal footing, an opponent that will make his blood race and his heart pound.

Daiki learns that Kise is an amazing listener.

Daiki learns that Kise the most himself when he is fighting with Daiki.

Daiki learns that he is really and truly in love with Kise.

***

“Aomine-san, I need to talk to you.”

Imayoshi is in Daiki’s guest room one morning, his voice scaring Daiki out of his sleep. He growls and grabs a pillow, dropping it over his head to drown out the guard’s evil-sounding voice.

“Fine.” The voice is more muffled. “Not me, then. Your father. Your father is here. He wants to talk to you.”

At this, Daiki sits up immediately, his expression disbelieving. His father? Why is his father here?

“What about—?”

“Too?” Imayoshi smiles. “Don’t worry. Your father tells me Harasawa is keeping things smooth back over there. Your father came to visit you. _In secret_.”

He places emphasis on the last two words of his comment, clearly indicating that no one from Kaijo is aware of King Aomine’s presence in the kingdom.

“What’s it about?”

“You’ll have to ask him. He told me to give you this.”

Imayoshi hands Daiki a slip of paper, which he promptly unfurls and reads. There is an address, and a time.

Daiki resolves to go and meet his father.

***

“Marrying Aomine Daiki, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’d have thought you’d marry before me?”

“Um, everyone?”

“Idiot!”

A blow to the back. Ryouta stumbles forward, grinning childishly as he turns back to face Kasamatsu.

“I’m your elder,” Kasamatsu says. “Remember that. Anyway, congratulations and all, but I just feel like I have to warn you. He doesn’t really seem like…a good person.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know. You used to think the same as me. He seems kind of…I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry, Kasamatsu-sensei. Aren’t I equally as ‘I don’t know’?”

Another kick to the back, more lighthearted this time, and Ryouta is laughing now.

“Hey,” Kasamatsu says. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you with him all day. Where is he?”

***

_Slash!_

_Slash!_

Stars are gleaming overhead, and Daiki is tearing through the moving dummies set out for him, sweat pouring down his face. He is whirling about like a beast, stabbing and slicing almost faster than the human eye can catch. He acknowledges he must appear to be a madman to any onlookers but he cannot help himself. He is so frustrated.

_Slash!_ Down the dummies fall.

Daiki imagines the next dummy is his father and just as he is about to stab the dummy through the chest, he hesitates, his sword arm shaking visibly. Flashes of the discussion with his father sprint through his mind like wild animals.

_“Daiki.”_

_“Dad.”_

His father’s face. Daiki remembers his father’s face, filled with thinly veiled displeasure. He recalls his father’s condescending tone of voice, claiming that he only has his son’s best interests at heart.

_“We come from a long line of noble conquerors, of strong alphas, of gifted warriors, of pureblood kings. You intend to end the line by marrying a man?”_

_“Dad, you wanted me to marry a Kise. I’m marrying a Kise. What’s the problem?”_

_“The problem is that you’re always out to cause trouble. I should have expected no less. You have two of the most beautiful princesses in the five kingdoms to choose between, and you choose a man.”_

_Rip!_ Daiki stabs his sword right into the chest of the mannequin and drags down, tearing it right open, trying to clear his head. The words just keep infuriating him.

_“We’re allied now. Relax, Dad.”_

_“I won’t relax; not when you will be without an heir. Don’t be an imbecile! The Kise family will surely take over both kingdoms if those princesses have children! Daiki, you’re the successor of Too. Please. I’m concerned for your future. Mark my words; Kise Ryouta will only prove to be your weakness. You need a son; you need to provide a legacy to your kingdom or the citizens will consider you a failure.”_

_“Me? A failure? That’s funny.”_

_“Not everything is a joke, son!”_

_“But that is. Look, I don’t really care what you have to say. I did what you asked; I proposed to a Kise.”_

_“You disappoint me.”_

“I don’t really care,” Daiki hisses to himself as he cuts down yet another obstacle in his path. “I don’t give a damn, old man.” Sweat drips off his brow. Yet, those three words resonate loud and clear in his head, over and over again.

_You disappoint me._

_You disappoint me._

_You disappoint me._

“Aomine-cchi?”

And suddenly, the three words disappear.

Daiki turns around, wiping the seat off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. “Kise?”

“There you are.”

He drops his sweat-drenched shirt and it settles back in place. Blue eyes meet amber ones. “Here I am.”

The blond looks around at the maimed and mutilated dummies littering the formerly beautiful royal gardens. Daiki doesn’t say another word. Kise seems to know how troubled he feels. That much is clear in his concerned expression, which he quickly replaces with a fake and bright smile.

“Where were you all day?”

Daiki is not in the mood for falsities, especially from Kise. So instead, he walks over to the blond, sweat-drenched and all, and grabs his waist, pulling him close and kissing him fiercely on the lips.

“Mm-wait,” Kise murmurs against his lips, but he doesn’t listen. Then his tongue is in Kise’s mouth, aggressive and frustrated and passionate, and he is gripping Kise’s waist so tightly that he is sure there will be imprints left.

“Aomine-cchi, wait,” he murmurs again, half-heartedly, as the pull apart to gasp for a breath. This time, Daiki listens, feeling strangely defeated.

“What’s with all our meetings at night?” He grumbles, thinking that this is the third time. “Night is reserved for having sex, not talking.”

Kise stares at him for a moment, and Daiki is a little disappointed that the blond doesn’t fluster adorably as Daiki expected. His amber eyes are unwavering lights in the dark, and Daiki swallows.

He is worth his father’s disappointment. Kise is worth it.

He watches as the blond kicks the arm of a dummy to the side and slowly settle onto the ground until he is lying down, hands behind his head and face tilted up to the sky. “Come look at the stars with me, Aomine-cchi.”

Daiki hesitates for a moment but eventually relents. The sky looks so vast.

“I like to stargaze with Kasamatsu-sensei, usually. He isn’t fond of you, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s because he has a thing for you.”

“No he doesn’t. Kasamatsu-sensei is like an older brother. Besides, he’s a man.”

_So am I,_ Daiki thinks. _What’s the big deal? Why does gender matter? Why does having kids matter? Why does meeting expectations of parents matter?_

Why does anything matter, really?

He voices none of the questions aloud. Instead, he quips sarcastically: “Likely claim.”

“He taught me how to fight. Who taught you to fight?”

“I learned on the streets.”

That statement is a partial truth. In the back of his mind, he can see his father, smiling and teasing and happy, clashing plastic swords with him; back when his father was his hero who had the world in the palm of his hand.

Kise sits up suddenly, staring down at him. Ugh. Daiki can feel his cheeks heating up. It is singularly unfair for someone to be so good looking, so Daiki’s type.

“If I take off my mask, will you take yours off, too?” 

Silence.

_Dammit. Dammit, Kise. You sure know my weak spots._

Daiki nods.

Kise grins half-heartedly and mimes taking off a mask. Daiki rolls his eyes.

“Ask me anything,” Kise says. “And I’ll tell you the whole truth.”

“Are you in love with me?”

More silence. Daiki feels himself grinning as the blond swallows and looks away, trying to remain casual and _not_ awkward.

“That’s not fair.” The blond rakes a hand through his hair and Daiki is careful to note how attractive the gesture looks. “That’s way too blunt a question.”

“Masks off.”

“Why don’t you ask me—?”

“Masks off.”

“Shut it. I know.”

“Waiting for the answer.”

Kise swallows once more before shrugging. “I’m not.”

There is evident honesty in his expression, and Daiki cannot describe exactly what he feels in this moment. There is a strange feeling in his chest like something is being tied in a knot, and it hurts to swallow. It feels like he’s floating, and not in a good way. He feels too lightheaded, his eyes have this weird stinging sensation…

“I’m not in love with you,” Kise repeats once more. “I think, when I first met you, I felt awe. Lots of awe. No one has beaten me in a fist fight for about ten years. Then you appear, the devil himself, and changed my whole perspective on fighting. Then I think it was lust. I—God, this is embarrassing—I…I, you know.”

“I don’t know. Tell me, Kise.”

An amber death glare.

“I wanted…” The blond’s voice trails off. He clears his throat uncomfortably and starts again, quietly. “I wanted you.”

“But you’re not in love with me.”

“No, but…” His embarrassment is gone suddenly, and he leans down to meet Daiki’s eyes, their faces inches apart. He can almost feel the warmth emanating from the flame in his amber eyes. His voice is soft, barely a whisper in the night. “I think I’m _falling_ in love with you, Aomine-cchi.”

Now is Daiki’s turn to feel embarrassed. Kise’s gaze suddenly feels too intense, too enchanting, and Daiki is afraid he’ll be swept up into the fire. He breaks the gaze and breathes out.

“Okay. I can make do with that.”

“My turn to ask a question?”

“I know what you’re going to ask.”

“What? What am I going to ask?”

“You’re going to ask what’s bothering me.”

“You’re right! I was going to ask that.”

“I think all you need to know is that you’ll agree with whatever it is, and you’ll want to back out of everything, most probably.”

Kise pales. “It’s bad? It’s about me? If I promise not to back out of anything, then will you tell me?”

“Kise…” Looking at Kise’s stricken face, Daiki makes a terrible decision then. He decides to put his mask back on. He lies.

“My uh, father sent me a message saying that the wedding should be pushed back so that there is more time for preparations. He thinks it’s so sudden.”

Yeah. That’s a decent lie with partial truth. Daiki’s tongue feels thick. He hates fakes, and yet…

And yet he faked.

Kise scrunches up his nose adorably, reminding Daiki of a little bunny. “That’s it? That can’t be why you’re so troubled.”

“I just…he’s been kind of different since the threat of Seiren.”

“It’s okay. Don’t you remember the purpose of this whole…this whole marriage? It’s to be allied, Aomine-cchi. Double the forces.”

“You’re right, Kise. I just…”

Kise does something that surprises him then. It is such a simple action, something so innocent, and yet it brings Daiki the greatest sense of peace and comfort.

Kise places his hand over Daiki’s.

He is warm, his hand not soft and gentle but callused and scarred and strong from fighting. Daiki absentmindedly notes that Kise’s hands are the only rough part about him, not beautiful and flawless like the rest of him.

And strangely, Kise’s hands become Daiki’s favourite thing about him then. One’s hands reveal who they are, and Kise’s hands are strong and real.

“Aomine-cchi. We’ll be okay.”

Strangely, Daiki believes him.

***

King Aomine runs a hand across his neatly styled hair, feeling tension coursing through him. With the unsettling threat of Seiren attacking the Five Kingdoms, he really cannot handle any more stress. Of course, however, his son would find a way to add to his troubles.

He had believed that providing Daiki the opportunity to wed a princess of Kise, a famous beauty, would benefit everyone. He believed that there was no way Daiki could screw this up, would turn everything into another one of his antics. The king was wrong.

Now, alongside the threat of future war, there is also the huge possibility of Too being without an heir, without an Aomine successor.

Taking a deep breath, the king attempts to relieve his nerves and calm himself. He needs to clear his head in order to think clearly and rationally.

In one two three…out one two three…

His head is clear.

King Aomine knows what he has to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: It Blossoms with a Dance (meaning, the last It Blossoms and also the wedding including *cough* wedding night *cough cough* so be warned!)
> 
> Ah, how I love foreshadowing. Foreshadowing and dramatic irony are my favourite things to include in stories, as blatant as I may write them. I admire those writers who can foreshadow so subtly, but then when you finally realize, it’s like OMG. Fifth Business was definitely one of the stories with masterful foreshadowing, for any Canadians out there. 
> 
> Sorry a lot of their relationship development may seem kinda rushed and tbh I am kinda rushing it cuz I just want to get the development part over with. It's fun to write when you're in a poetic mood, but if you just wanna advance the plot, then it feels really slow. Like I was gonna write an actual date date, but then I was like nah. And I was actually going to write their relationship progressing, but then I was like nah. (I'm quite lazy). So the date is basically the date of the wedding??


	6. It Blossoms with a Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the kind and pure of heart, PLEASE stop reading after this chapter, because the next chapter is when everything is going to go downhill (in terms of plot, not my writing, i promise) and turn kind of weird and very, very explicitly kinky…basically when the actual plot begins, now that this chapter finished the setup of the story. 
> 
> Sorry guys…kind of sucked. Was rushed. Again. (It Blossoms is not my best work). But hey! At least next up is Act 3!

_It blossoms with a dance._

It is the week of the wedding, and things are crazy.

Everyone is attending—well, almost everyone.

The Rakuzan royal family, the Shutoku royal family, and the Yosen royal family have all RSVP’d yes. Too’s king has yet to respond. Aomine Daiki tries not to let that get to him.

Kise’s sisters are currently bustling about like hectic tornadoes, arranging everything and preparing everything for the big day. As per tradition, Daiki is not allowed to see Kise until the day of the wedding, and he is bored out of his mind.

He is also uncharacteristically excited. Ask him five years ago about the prospect of marriage and he would have laughed.

Now…

Things are different.

Things are very different.

“Dai-chan!” Satsuki comes rushing into his room. She holds out a slip of folded paper; a note from Kise. This is how they have been communicating over the past few days, and annoying as it is, Daiki actually finds it kind of interesting.

Kise’s handwriting is definitely interesting. For a prince and future heir, he has surprisingly terrible penmanship. Not that Daiki’s angry scrawl is much better, but still.

Daiki takes the slip of paper from Satsuki and reads it.

He laughs.

“What is it?” Satsuki asks. “What does it say?”

He simply shakes his head, choosing not to reply.

***

“Kise, after you get married, you have to introduce me to all your heartbroken fan girls. Maybe host a mixer.”

“Shut it, Moriyama.”

“Why? There will be heartbroken girls all over the country!”

“Do you want me to kick you?”

Kasamatsu and Moriyama, one of Kise Ryouta’s favourite guards, are bickering back and forth as Ryouta lies on his bed, staring up listlessly at the ceiling. He watches the ceiling fan whirl around, and around, and around, and around, and around…

“Kise?”

Ryouta blinks at the sound of Kasamatsu’s address. “Huh?”

“Don’t _huh_ me. I’m telling you, it’s still not too late to back out if you’re feeling one way or the other.”

“No. I’m feeling fine. Don’t worry, Kasamatsu-sensei.”

“I told you before. You’re a terrible actor.”

Sometimes the fact that Kasamatsu can see through his façade is irritating, especially when he doesn’t want to think, much less talk, about annoying matters. What’s worse, Daiki can also easily tell when he’s being fake.

Sometimes he’s afraid to have no shield; afraid to be vulnerable.

He sure as hell doesn’t want to tell Kasamatsu what’s been bothering him at the moment. He doesn’t want to say: “ _hey! It’s no big deal! I’m just wondering if this is really the right decision, me marrying Aomine. We both won’t be able to have a family or heirs but you know, whatever._ ”

Yep. He sure as hell doesn’t want to say that.

It wasn’t so much of a huge deal at first, but now it’s been constantly nagging the back of his mind. Last night, he had a dream about little blond, blue eyed children running about and woke up in a cold sweat.

Does he want children? Ryouta isn’t sure. Still, the idea of completely shutting out that possibility is a bit frightening.

 _Not shutting out_ , he reminds himself. _There’s still adoption, having a surrogate mother carry a baby…so many possibilities._

Ryouta clears his throat and smiles. “Don’t be mean, Kasamatsu-sensei. I’m just nervous. Anyone would be nervous really, for the, uh—”

“The wedding.”

For some reason, Kasamatsu’s eyes remind him of Daiki’s then, and Ryouta turns away, choosing to focus on Moriyama instead. The guard is lounging on a chair and staring out the window and obviously not doing his job—not that Ryouta really cares.

“Her!” Moriyama says, pointing out the window at some unseen figure, his voice full of expression but his face void of it. “I’ll prove my love to her! Kise, help me hit on her properly?”

“What?”

“You know, like, tell her what an amazing guard I am! Like, how cool I am!”

Ryouta blinks.

“Anyway,” Moriyama changes the subject rather abruptly, completely forgetting about his target of affection. “Are you sure about getting married to the Prince? You have so many women flocking to you. You can choose anyone.”

“Well.”

“You know, I didn’t know you…you know…liked men.”

Ryouta can feel his face flushing in embarrassment. He can feel Kasamatsu staring at him intently.

“Well, I uh, I um, it’s—I d—I don’t. I mean—”

“More the person than the gender?” Moriyama offers, and Ryouta nods. “That’s good, that’s good. Not a problem. That means you actually like him, then. Aomine Daiki-Ouji.”

He feels rather uncomfortable because of Moriyama’s questions, not wanting to confess the true answer, so he decides to put on a show. Ryouta smiles brightly and nods. “Of course I do!”

That’s a lie, of course.

Ryouta doesn’t like Aomine.

Ryouta loves him.

***

“Today’s lucky item is an orange, in fact.”

“Still, you don’t have to hold it during the wedding! It looks stupid!”

“My lucky item should be on me at all—”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, Shin-chan, whatever you say. I give up. Oh look! It’s your friend Murasakibara Atsushi!”

“He is not my friend, Takao. He is vulgar, in fact.”

The day of the long awaited wedding is here, the union between Kise Ryouta and Aomine Daiki. Midorima Shintarou, the prince of Shutoku, has never spoken to them in person. Of course not. Shutoku is quite far from Too and Kaijo. Still, he has heard and seen quite a lot about both of the two being married.

Aomine Daiki. Playboy, lazy, and well renowned for being the best swordsman in the five kingdoms, even with his lack of practice. Not the best strategist—that title belongs to Akashi Seijurou, but the best in terms of raw physical talent. From what Shintarou has heard, Aomine seems to be the type who never takes things seriously, to not take the ruling of a kingdom seriously. He’s heard women speak of Aomine being a devilish charmer, a reckless heartbreaker.

Then there’s Kise Ryouta. Charming, friendly, loved by all. The epitome of a Prince Charming, with a massive fan base of women and men alike. Being from Kaijo, he’s heard of Kise Ryouta’s unfair good looks and generally happy demeanor, so Shintarou is quite surprised when he hears that Kise’s swordsmanship can very nearly rival Aomine’s with a frightening ability to copy many skilled moves on sight. He appears to be more than just a pretty face.

Shintarou doesn’t believe he will get along with either of them. Not that he gets along with many people. Still, he has to appreciate with a begrudging respect that they have monstrous combat skills. They are real monsters.

Just like him.

Takao, Shintarou’s parents, and members of the Shutoku royal guard take their seats near the front of the aisle, settling nervously into the decorated, gleaming seats. The wedding ceremony is taking place on the beach; a beautiful and peaceful setting for a matrimony.

Shintarou sees the other elite of the kingdoms; the other monsters. He sees Murasakibara Atsushi, that distasteful oaf who never stops eating. Even now, he is nibbling on some snack. He also sees Akashi Seijurou who is already King of Rakuzan despite being the same age as the rests of the royal heirs. Akashi looks dignified, composed, and flawless as always, and when he meets Shintarou’s eyes, he smiles politely. Shintarou nods once in acknowledgement, recalling their formerly close friendship so long ago.

There is lots of chatter, and many people are present to witness the matrimony of Kise and Aomine. After all, the marriage also signifies the union of the kingdoms. On top of that, Kise and Aomine are grossly popular; almost like celebrities.

When the ceremony begins, Aomine Daiki is standing on the platform, looking handsome and tired and bored and illuminated by the late afternoon sun. He is clad in a dapper black tuxedo, drawing up his graceful angles and planes to make him appear tall and regal. His eyes scan the crowd listlessly and apparently dissatisfied with the results of what his eyes see, he frowns. He seems to be exactly the pompous, arrogant guy people rumour him to be.

But then.

The doors open as the music begins playing, and one by one, the proceedings occur. Kise Ryouta’s angelic sisters dressed in soft, pale gold walk down the aisle carrying bright flowers and smiling lovely, practiced smiles.

The king then proceeds down the aisle, dressed in his finest robes with his green eyes twinkling. Lastly, there’s Kise Ryouta.

He too is dressed in a black tux; the darkness of the suit complementing his fair hair wonderfully. He looks like a male model, fit and smiling and dashingly attractive. He walks casually but still sophisticatedly calculated; the walk of a person who is used to all eyes on him. His pretty honey eyes meet Shintarou’s green ones, and there is a soft flame in them.

“Wow, that was a real drastic change in expression,” Takao whispers into Shintarou’s ear, confusing the prince of Shutoku for a brief moment. Then, upon glancing at the front of the church, he understands who Takao is referring to.

Aomine Daiki’s formerly bored and monotonous expression is now replaced by one of smiling eyes, a soft look, and an overall expression almost of…reverence? Appreciation?

No.

It’s a look of love. A look of promise.

_They really love each other?_

The realization is startling to Shintarou, who had believed the marriage was mainly for alliance and kingdom union reasons.

“We are gathered here today, on this happy and joyous occasion, to join the princes of Too and Kaijo together in holy matrimony. Marriage is a solemn institution to be held in honor by all, it is the cornerstone of the family and of the community. It requires of those who undertake it a complete and unreserved giving of one's self. It is not to be entered into lightly, as marriage is a sincere and mutual commitment to love one another. This commitment symbolizes the intimate sharing of two lives and still enhances the individuality of each of you.”

Shintarou is kind of zoning out at this point. He has never been a fan of big events, and especially big, sappy events.

“Aomine Daiki, do you take this man to be your wedded spouse? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Kise Ryouta, do you take this man to be your wedded spouse? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

***

_You may now kiss the groom._

Kise Ryouta’s heart is beating a million times per minute as he look at Aomine. He sees dark blue uncertainty, dark blue hesitation in those eyes. He finds it endearing that the prince of Too has the grace to want the permission of Ryouta himself. So, Ryouta leans forward and presses his lips against Aomine’s.

_This feels like falling into clouds._

Aomine’s lips are soft against his own, his hands warm on Ryouta’s waist. His own arms are draped across Aomine’s shoulders, pulling him close.

When the shouts and whistles begin to increase in volume, Ryouta knows they have kissed a moment too long in public. Of course, neither he nor Aomine have the decency to be ashamed.

***

The dinner banquet is at the castle, and the food is spectacular.

Daiki thinks, for a moment, that he sees an ominous flash of fair blue hair in the crowd; fair blue hair that belongs to an ominous shadow. When he blinks, it is gone, and he doesn’t think too much of it.

The cake is delectable.

The congratulations pour like a rainstorm.

Masses of presents are piled sky high.

An embarrassing speech is made by Kasamatsu.

An embarrassing speech is made by Satsuki.

Kise is ushered towards the ballroom floor.

Daiki is ushered towards the ballroom floor.

And now it is time for the dance.

***

He holds out his hand and Kise takes it, looking hesitant. Daiki pulls him close, feeling strangely entranced by his warmth. The lights are dim; a faint sheen of gold that casts a feeling of warmth over everyone. The floor looks large and empty and full of possibility, and Kise puts his other hand on Daiki’s shoulder.

_This is love._

Everyone’s eyes are on them, but Daiki doesn’t notice at all. He looks into Kise’s eyes; those mysterious amber eyes that hold all the stars in them. They are dark with an uncertainty, dark with a quiet fear, and Daiki can almost see the question in them.

_What will you do now?_

Daiki places his hand on Kise’s waist, and for a moment he can almost see their future, standing side by side, the two of them withstanding all the forces of the wind and sky.

For a moment, he can almost see happiness.

Their dance isn’t the extravagant dance they’ve practiced over the past month, full of twirls and dips and expert footwork. For some reason, they find themselves simply swaying slowly back and forth rather than gliding across the floor as rehearsed.

They don’t really care.

Kise buries his head in Daiki’s collarbone then, warm and soft with his hair tickling Daiki’s chin, and a rush of emotions flood through the prince of Too.

Daiki can hear his heartbeat, steady with the slow drumbeats of the music, and he shuts his eyes. He sees a sweaty, shirtless, fiery blond shining in a dimly lit arena. He sees a silhouette shadowed by pale curtains under a starry night. He sees gold in the dark, and a smile in an old photograph.

He supposes this is a beautiful time to whisper secrets to Kise, secrets meant only for his ears to hear. He supposes this is the perfect time to say things like:

_I love you._

_I’m glad I met you._

_I fell for your eyes before they even knew me._

_You’re so warm._

_You’re everything I never knew I needed._

_I will stay by your side forever._

_I want to make you smile._

_Kiss me again and again._

Yet, he doesn’t say anything. Daiki knows that it is a great time as ever to say all he wants to say, but he knows he doesn’t have to. Sometimes silence can speak a thousand words, and Kise seems to know that. His breathing is even, soft against Daiki’s neck, and when he presses his lips against it, Daiki shivers.

They are silent, but they can hear everything.

***

_This will only be of benefit for my son._

_If he is so insistent on marrying the prince of Kaijo, then there is only one solution._

_They will forever be indebted to me._

_This is what I have to do._

Back in Too, a figure cloaked in black approaches an old woman with missing teeth and scarred skin. She grins crookedly, frighteningly.

“Your Majesty.”

“Quiet. Do you have it?”

“I do.”

A vial of strange, moving white powder is exchanged for a pouch stuffed with gold coins.

“And you’re sure it works?”

“I am sure. It is quite popular in the black market. It will mimic those of the past.”

“Okay.”

The pouch of coins is opened an old, haggard fingers are toying with the coins. Dark blue eyes are intently scrutinizing the vial of strange substance.

“I hear the young prince was married today in Too. Did you not attend?”

“I had important matters to attend to, _witch_.”

A condescending chuckle. “Don’t tell me you bought it for him? How strange.”

“No. It’s for the other one. His supposed ‘ _spouse_ ’.”

“The prince of Kaijo?”

“Yes. It’s for Kise Ryouta.”

Another chuckle. “And without his permission?”

“That is none of your concern.”

The pouch of money is tucked away into a fraying tunic. The vial is tucked into a dark cloak. 

“I hope you mean it as a blessing, but it may prove to be a curse upon them.”

“Not them. Only to _him_. Not to my son. It will only be a blessing to my son. That’s what matters.”

_That’s the only thing that matters._

The cloaked figure shuts his eyes and tries to convince himself he is doing the right thing.

Deep down, he knows he is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: It Changes with a Cup of Tea. Finally I get to advance the plot! Eh, sorry about the wedding being a Christian one, to ye of different (or no) faiths. I’m a Roman Catholic, so I’ve only ever been to Christian-based weddings…in like, churches and whatnot. I’d really love to go to a different kind, though.
> 
> Anyway, I guess this is as good a time as ever to do as all ao3 writers do, and announce my tumblr! It's animeandotherquotes.tumblr.com (it's a secondary blog...but less messy) so feel free to leave a message there if you want, or if you're up for helping out with the story or anything! (Like beta-ing? Not sure what that is...but I'm assuming it's like proofreading...) 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I wish you all have minimal stress this week (my stress levels are sky high man)!


	7. It Changes with a Cup of Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the story finally takes off! Thank you all for being so patient with me, and thank you all so much for the comments. They really encourage me to continue the story and always put a smile on my face. :) Now here’s my formal apology: I am profusely sorry for the serious, smutty, and seriously smutty turn this story is going to take. ‘Twas my intention all along, but still. I’m sorry. :3 PLS READ TAGS. Also, things I seemed to have forgotten will show up again, so be warned. Everything is written for a reason. 
> 
> Also sorry for the extreme delay and all the false promises of updating. :( Things have been too crazy school-wise, work-wise, and now relationship-wise. :/ But I don't wanna make you guys unhappy with all the waiting, so yay here is the new chapter!

_It changes with a cup of tea._

“Good afternoon, sir,” Kise says with his brightest and fakest smile, his teeth gleaming and his dimples carving into his cheeks.

Damn. Kise looks brilliant, but Daiki knows his father is also not a fan of ingenuity. He bets his father can see all the anxiety and nervousness behind that beautiful smile. He anticipates some cold comment towards his spouse…but none comes.

“Good afternoon, Kise-Ouji. Pleasure to meet you.”

The king takes Kise’s hand and kisses it, _actually kisses it_ ; an act of utmost respect. Daiki is at a loss for words.

“The pleasure is mine.” The blond looks less anxious now and more like himself—well, his real self.

The king pulls back and stares at his son. “Daiki.”

Their eyes meet, and Daiki remembers the conversation about Kise a few months prior. He recalls the severe disapproval, the acrimony, and most of all, the disappointment. Where did it all go?

“Dad.”

“You are both welcome to sit. I’ll send for some tea.”

“Great,” Daiki says dryly. “I love tea.”

The two young men settle down on the luxurious sofa uncomfortably, side by side.

There is a long and awkward silence before the king clears his throat. Daiki wonders why they agreed to travel back to Too. He also wonders where in the castle Satsuki and Sakurai wandered off to.

Things had been going great since the wedding. Documents were signed, the union was finalized on paper, and both he and Kise had big plans for their future kingdom, Kaijo-Too, when they inherit the throne. There are plans to extend the villages in Kaijo and Too to fill the vast expanse of land and hills separating the two kingdoms, thus forming a single nation. A lovely castle is also in the midst of being built; a castle at the heart of the future united kingdom, where Daiki and Kise can live.

Together.

Daiki glances at Kise, who is looking curiously at the surroundings. The Too palace is starkly different from Kaijo’s, with the stone walls, the grey colours, and the air of regal formality. Currently, they are in the king’s chambers; familiar as ever to Daiki, but evidently strange to Kise.

As the blond looks around and the king chooses a seat to settle down into, Daiki finds his thoughts wandering to—as shallow as this sounds—Kise’s appearance. Daiki gaze settles first onto Kise’s honey eyes, framed with unfairly pretty lashes. His gaze drifts to Kise’s lips then; his full, enticing, Cupid’s bow lips that Daiki wants to touch, to kiss.

“To start, I just wanted to apologize for not attending the…marriage ceremony,” the king says, rubbing his hands together before raking them through his hair, as if he’s putting on hair gel. This startles the prince of Too out of his wandering thoughts. “I had matters of utmost significance to attend to.”

 _I’ll bet you did_ , Daiki thinks with a twinge of bitterness _. Like making a statement of how much you disapprove of the marriage._

Kise, however, doesn’t sense the lie and lights up like a Christmas tree. “That’s alright! I--we completely understand the significance of a king’s duties.”

A shadow crosses the king’s face just for a brief moment, but not brief enough for Daiki to see. His heart skips a beat.

“Yes.” the older man smiles as a servant enters with three cups of steaming hot tea. “Congratulations to you both.”

He picks up a cup of tea and offers it to Kise, who graciously accepts. He does the same with Daiki, who takes the cup without a word. He takes a sip—

And spits it out. “Ugh! Gross! Citrus tea?”

The king frowns. “Yes, Daiki. You know it’s my favourite.”

“And you know it’s my least favourite.”

“Would you rather I offer your dashing husband here some of that atrocious black tea you so desire?”

“Yes! Kise, do you like black tea or citrus tea?”

“Um…” The blond, who was about to take a sip of the tea, lowers the cup. “I’m more of an oolong tea kind of guy.”

“Fine. What say you try both and tell us which you prefer?” Daiki beckons to the servant, who is waiting stiffly by the door.

“Do you mind bringing a cup of black tea? The usual way I like it.”

“Did you hear that?” The king asks, and Daiki turns to him. A chill runs down his back. There is something about his father’s expression that reminds him of…a crocodile. He echoes Daiki’s words. “The usual way he likes it.”

Kise doesn’t seem to care, his eyes darting back and forth between father and son as he slowly drinks the citrus tea.

“Sorry, Aomine-cchi,” he says. “This is pretty good tea. Not sure your black tea can beat this.”

The black tea arrives. Kise takes the cup and Daiki smiles proudly, awaiting praise regarding his tea preferences. Kise takes a sip—and he gags.

The king smiles triumphantly.

“Ugh, God, this is terri—” Kise’s eyes meet Daiki’s then, and he suddenly perks up. “Uh, this is terrific!”

He doesn’t want to make Daiki feel bad?

“I’m not a kid, Kise. You don’t have to try to make me feel better.”

“It’s great? What are you talking about?”

The blond squeezes his eyes shut and gulps down the whole, steaming hot cup, ending with an exaggerated _ahhhh_.

Daiki can tell he hated it.

“Two whole cups,” the king laughs to himself.

***

The conversation is somewhat short, somewhat clipped, and somewhat formal. The king offers to host a banquet for them to Daiki’s surprise, but he declines. The king offers for them to stay in the castle for a while but again, the offer is declined. Daiki just wants to get back to Kaijo, away from the anxiety of being around his strangely welcoming father.

“A few days,” the king insists. “I would love to get to know you better, Kise-san. Please.”

And darn Kise, darn Kise’s compassion, his desire to please Daiki’s father, because he finally agrees, and without conferencing with Daiki first.

“Sure. A few days won’t hurt, right Aomine-cchi?”

Daiki shoots daggers with his eyes. “Yes, they will.”

“No, they won’t. Please.” _Darn those pretty amber eyes. Dammit. Dammit._

He and Kise finally settle on spending one more day in Too and consequently, two more nights.

***

Daiki’s room is just as he remembers it to be. Everything is still in its place, and everything is drastically different from Kise’s room. To Daiki’s annoyance, his father insists on Kise sleeping in a separate guest room. He settles on his familiar bed, exhaling slowly. A feeling of unease has settled over him ever since their arrival in Too; a feeling he cannot seem to shake off. He decides to take a nap for a while and drifts off into an unsettling, empty sleep. He dreams of nothing, feels nothing, and wakes up unrested. 

When awake, he calls for a guard and inquires: "In which room is Kise staying?" 

"Pardon?" The guard asks. 

Daiki rolls his eyes. "Kise. You know. Blond, tall-" 

"Oh. The male model type? Amber eyes? Smiles a lot?"  

"Yep, that's the one. Where is he?" 

The guard shifts uncomfortably, and dread courses through Daiki's veins. 

_"Where is he?"_

"He's in his room. Second floor of the castle, in the West Wing. The third guest room." 

"He's alright?"

***

Kise Ryouta is not alright. 

Currently, he is curled up in a fetal position on the guest bed, shutting his eyes tightly. His stomach is tight with pain. He wonders if this is how a girl feels on her period. He guesses it would be something similar. 

Was it the tea? Was it the mix of teas that messed up his stomach? Probably not. He thinks back to the morning. After drinking the tea, he was fine. He was fine for hours. It was only this evening that his stomach began to cramp up. 

He concludes that the reason is lack of food. He is probably starving and as he thinks about it, he realizes he is craving some nice, hot, onion gratin soup. Ryouta rolls over and sits up. The pain is uncomfortable, but bearable. 

There is a knock on the door, and Ryouta knows it is Aomine. 

"Aomine-cchi? Come in." 

The door opens slowly, and Aomine stands there awkwardly, his eyes darting around the room and settling on Ryouta. 

"Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" 

Ryouta chooses not to tell Aomine-cchi about his stomach. He doesn't want the prince of Too to worry irrationally. Ryouta isn't blind; he has seen how tense the other man has been since their arrival. The tension between him and his father is undeniable. 

Aomine shrugs and runs a hand over his hair. _Damn. That is attractive_. Ryouta clears his throat, looking away. 

"I just..."

Ryouta is startled by the shakiness of Aomine's voice. He has never heard a voice so broken-sounding, so fearful. 

"I just don't feel so good about being back here." 

Another sharp stab of pain in his stomach. Ryouta digs his nails into his palm, forcing himself not to wince. Instead, he smiles and pats his bed, inviting Aomine to sit. 

"You shouldn't feel like that. This is your kingdom, your home, Aomine-cchi. Remember? I think your father is telling the truth about being busy, so if you're angry at him for not attending the wedding-"

"It's not that. It's just...I don't know." 

"Well, if you don't know, then it's nothing." 

Aomine shrugs. "I guess." 

He chooses not to join Ryouta on the bed. 

***

The time in Too is a blur of anxiety, and it passes by after an agonizing length of tension and worry. Only once the goodbyes are finally said and they are pass through the gates of the Too castle does Aomine Daiki relax. 

On the way back to Kaijo, Kise is deathly silent. Every time Daiki tries to ask a question or begin a conversation it is halted with a quick nod or shake of the head. Kise’s lips are pursed at the moment, and Daiki wonders if he is angry for some reason.

The ride is smooth and entirely uninterrupted, but Daiki can’t shake the strangely ominous feeling that has settled over him. Satsuki and Sakurai are chatting lightly in the background, exchanging cooking recipes of some sort. Kise appears strained and makes no sound the whole time.

Daiki begins thinking. What could he have done? What did he do to make Kise angry?

After a while, he is startled from his train of thought when a low sound between a gasp and a groan falls from the blond’s quivering lips. And darn, Daiki hates himself for how erotic he thinks it sounds when there is clearly something wrong.

He studies Kise for a moment and realizes what the blond is experiencing is not anger, but pain. How could he have not realized that?

“You okay?”

A quick nod of the head.

“You sure?”

“I’m _fine,_ Aomine-cchi.”

“You don’t look fine, Kise.”

Daiki is telling the truth. Kise does not look good. He is breathing hard and his eyes are unfocused, darting wildly about. His fair skin has lost its rosy hue and he is stark white as a sheet of paper, sweat dripping from his hair. He is constantly shifting on his horse as if he can’t quite get comfortable, and Daiki can see his hands are trembling ever so slightly.

Kise takes a deep breath and repeats, “I’m fine, Aomine-cchi.”

His tone lacks any sort of conviction.

“You’re not. Kise, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m just…feeling a little off today. That’s all.” The blond tries for a smile, but it comes out like a grimace. He takes one hand off the reins and places it on his stomach, bending forward in discomfort. “Bit of a stomach-ache. Don’t worry about me. I think I ate too much.”

Daiki isn’t convinced, but he says nothing. When they arrive back in Kaijo, Daiki will insist that he see a doctor.

“Well, if you need water, Ki-chan, I have some here!” Satsuki smiles fondly.

“Thank you, Momoi-cchi.”

Kise’s voice sounds tight, tense, and Daiki is genuinely worried. He knows Kise is a fighter; he has seen Kise fight. The blond isn’t exactly weak to pain. Daiki once saw Kise slashed brutally in the leg by his cousin Haizaki and the blond did not falter once, emerging victorious.

 _He must be in extreme pain to show it in his expression like this_ , Daiki thinks.

A cough startles him out of his thoughts. Kise is now in a coughing fit, doubling over with one arm shielding his mouth. Daiki stops his steed immediately and pulls the reins on the blond’s as well. He watches, panicked as the coughing continues.

Satsuki and Sakurai halt abruptly, Sakurai scampering off his horse and hurrying to Kise’s aid.

“Kise-Ouji-sama! Are you alright?”

“Fine.” A cough. “I’m just-” Another cough. “I feel strange.”

This time when he coughs, Daiki sees blood.

“Kise!” He goes into full panic mode. “You’re _not_ alright! Sakurai, get him off of his horse!”

“What?”

“ _NOW_!”

Sakurai, the good man that he is, obliges instantly, helping Kise off his horse. The moment Kise is standing, however, he lasts about a second before he cries out, a sound of pain, and doubles over.

Daiki stumbles towards him, overcome with desperation and worry. 

“Okay.” Cough. “M-maybe I’m not…” Another cough. “Alright.”

_You think?_

The prince of Too isn’t fast enough. The moment he reaches towards Kise, the blond’s coughing stops suddenly and he gasps. A small, helpless sound escapes his lips and at once, he collapses, his eyes fluttering shut.

With ringing ears and trembling legs, he falls to his knees, catching Kise’s head with his hands and softening the landing. He cannot speak. He cannot move. Fear is all he knows.

Since his mouth will not work, Satsuki is his voice.

Her cry rips through the air, silencing every other sound in Daiki’s world.

“ _KISE_!”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: It Changes with a Night
> 
> I know, I know. It wasn't the best. A tad sloppy. A tad unedited. A tad rushed. Again. On the plus side of things, I've started watching Supernatural (IK, random change of subject) and it is AMAZING! Dean Winchester is my new true love. He's got them gorgeous lips and big green eyes and long lashes and dimples and an adorable smile and hair that can be dirty blond or light brown and he basically is just a cute lil puppy trying to act tough 24/7. (Don't show that sentence to your English teachers; they will go mad.)
> 
> Have a nice night/day guys and I hope to update the next chapter as soon as I can! (Over the Victoria Day weekend, maybe?)


	8. It Changes with a Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short, this chapter, but...
> 
> WARNING EXPLICIT! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU AREN’T IN THE MOOD FOR SMUT! PLS! PURE OF HEART! LEAVE! 
> 
> I also do realize that Aomine and Kise are married now and still have their own surnames. Idk. I just found it fairer that way, and less complicated for me to write. And so yeah. From here on out (this chapter and the future chapters) this fic will be and will continue to get more and more explicit and mature, so this is my final warning. Thank you to all those who continue regardless. All support means the world to me. :)

_It changes with a night._

Daiki is dying inside, and so is Kise. Two days have gone by with Kise in terrifying, agonizing pain, and the doctor Satsuki brought for aid was of no use. Daiki has sent Sakurai all the way back to the Kaijo castle to inform the royal family of Kise’s severity and to retrieve Dr. Moriyama, the renowned physician of the kingdom. Sakurai has still not returned, and Kise is delirious with agony. They checked into a quaint motel in the middle of nowhere that resembled a barn more than an inn, with a well outside and poor plumbing.

At the moment, Kise is curled up on the small, wooden bed in a tight fetal position, his eyes shut tightly and his eyebrows furrowed in pain. He is flushed and sweating; his breath is shallow and rapid. His blond hair is wild and when Daiki touches his skin, he is burning hot. Daiki sits next to the bed silently, feeling his eyes sting in worry. He doesn’t understand the cause.

“Shhhh,” he whispers to the blond. “It’s going to be alright, Kise.”

Kise doesn’t seem to register the words. Instead, he clutches at his stomach and groans; a low, guttural sound that breaks Daiki’s heart into a million pieces. Sometimes, the pain is so much that Kise goes unconscious for brief periods of time and when he comes to, he has quick flashes of clarity. It is in these moments that his panicked amber eyes meet Daiki’s blue ones and asks the same question again and again in a hoarse, confused voice:

“What’s happening?”

Satsuki is constantly in and out, fetching towels and water, fluffing up pillows and checking Kise’s temperature. Daiki is eternally grateful to her. He feels useless, worthless that he cannot do anything to ease Kise’s pain.

The only thing he can seem to do is talk. So he does.

Kise is silent, occasionally shifting and groaning in pain, but Daiki talks. He tells Kise about his love for sword-fighting, his old friend (and now enemy) Kuroko Tetsuya, and his love for teriyaki burgers. He tells Kise everything and anything. He isn’t sure who he is trying to reassure more; Kise or himself.

Kise seems to be better during the beginning of the third day; better but a bit fatigued and uncomfortable. Daiki’s entire being is coursing with relief when he wakes up that morning to see the blond sitting up and eating.

“Kise?” he asks cautiously. “How are you feeling?”

The blond shrugs, pauses for a moment, and then speaks with his mouth full. Daiki should have commented on proper etiquette, but Kise is just too cute when he eats.

“Feeling better…really, really weird, though. I don’t know.”

Not knowing what to take from that answer, Daiki just nods. “Well, you scared me there.”

“Sorry.” Kise sets down his bowl of onion gratin soup (Satsuki must have gotten it for him) and meets Daiki’s eyes. He clears his throat.

“Thank you…for all you did, and I’m really sorry I caused you guys trouble.”

“Don’t apologize and don’t thank me. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

Blond eyebrows shoot up suddenly, incredulously. “No you’re not.”

“What?”

“I can take care of myself, Aomine-cchi.”

Daiki rolls his eyes. “We’re married now. We’re supposed to take care of each other, how about that? And you really _couldn’t_ take care of yourself the past few days. Do you know what was going on?”

Kise’s amber eyes darken and he says, “I don’t know. Honestly? I’ve never had any health problems before.”

“What…what did the pain feel like?”

“Like…” Kise’s voice trails off. “Like shifting. Just imagine two plates sliding past one another in a really tight space. Then imagine the plates are your organs. Basically like that.”

_Oh, God._

“It could have just been a really bad stomach-ache,” he adds, after seeing the expression on Daiki’s face. “Don’t worry; I feel better now.”

_Better, but weird._

The relief was short-lived when, around noon, Kise fell back into a fit of pain. He was clearly trying not to let it show at first for the sake of appearing strong, but eventually the extent of the agony became too excruciating, and Kise had to lie on the bed again. Satsuki, upon insistence of both Kise and Daiki, had travelled back to Kaijo to check to see if Sakurai made it back because Dr. Moriyama still has not arrived.

Daiki is alone with Kise at the moment. This pain seems to be a different kind now, because Kise seems to still have his head. He seems rational, able to think and communicate through the pain.

In the late evening, Kise asks Daiki for some more water. He obliges, pouring out a glass, before realizing that their supply of water has now run out.

“That cup is the last of the water we have left. I’m just going to go out to the well to fetch some more water. Will you be alright, Kise?”

“Go, Aomine-cchi.”

Daiki hesitates for a moment before rising from the seat he is sitting in next to Kise’s bed, and grabs the pail of water. He doesn’t want to leave Kise but at the same time, he just wants to leave. He needs to clear his head from all the stress. Kise may be rational at the moment but Daiki really isn’t when he’s so worried.

He leans forward, brushes blond hair off of a pale forehead, and plants a soft kiss on the forehead.

Then he leaves.

***

_9: 33 p.m._

The pain is gone, but he feels…

Ryouta feels strange. He cannot describe what he is feeling exactly, but he knows there is no pain. There is, however, an unsettled feeling arising in him, and heat. Ryouta feels too hot, his throat too parched. He reaches over to take a sip of water from the cup by his nightstand and when he tries to put it back, the glass slips from his hand and spills on the floor. _Dammit._ Groaning irritably, he reaches over to pick it up, and the strange feeling suddenly hits him full force, leaving him reeling back onto his bed.

Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.

A whimper escapes his mouth as the strange feeling suddenly becomes a dire need, a desperation. He doesn’t understand, but it is too hot and his whole body is suddenly trembling and _he needs_. He is overcome with the physical feeling that he is empty, that he needs to be filled to the brim, needs to be full. Ryouta doesn’t understand what is happening to his body, but the desperation is so overwhelming and is all he can focus on.

He needs.

He needs.

_He needs._

Shifting uncomfortably, Ryouta hesitates for a moment before the feeling overwhelms him and he pries off his shirt ungracefully and without thought. His skin is too sensitive. He needs to cool off. He looks down at his bare torso, which is glistening with a sheen of sweat. His blanket touching his skin also fills him with too many sensations, and he tosses it off. His fingers are itching to play with his nipples for some horrible reason, to derive some sort of pleasure, some sort of relief, and Ryouta cannot explain his own wantonness. His right hand trails to his left nipple anyway, and at the slightest touch—

He gasps as a tremor of pleasure runs through him. Terror fills him. How? How is this so intense? His nipples can’t be so sensitive. In the back of his mind, Ryouta knows shame is piling up, but he cannot focus on that now. To his horror, he feels his entrance twitch, contracting around nothing, wanting to contract around something.

He pulls down his pants and then his underwear, feeling his entrance twitch again. There is almost a strange ache around that area, a lustful ache that never existed before. Ryouta pulls down the covers, feeling cool air on his exposed body, and a sound escapes him unconsciously.

What a humiliating sound, but…

Ugh. He has to touch it, he has to be relieved, he—

“Kise? How are you feeling?”

There is the sound of footsteps as Aomine arrives back carrying a bucket of water. Ryouta hears the door enter, and suddenly his need and shame increases tenfold.

Aomine drops the bucket of water the moment he lays eyes on the blond, and water drenches the wooden floor. The blue-eyed boy’s cheeks flush and he is gaping open-mouthed at his spouse.

“…Kise?”

No, no, no. Oh God. Shame. There’s so much shame, but then again, there’s too much need…it’s too hot…he can’t breathe…

He knows his face is probably flaring red with humiliation and heat but his ass is practically throbbing and some overwhelming desire to be touched is mortifying him.

God. What a mortifying sight; Ryouta naked and whimpering and sweaty.

“I-” Ryouta’s voice is both too breathy and too husky in his own ears. “I don’t know what’s-what’s happening—”

He can barely speak. He can’t speak. Not now. Not when he needs to be filled, not when he needs Aomine so, so much…

Ryouta can feel his own body moving, can feel himself turning so that he is face down and lying on his stomach, stark naked. He feels himself pushing his ass up in a degrading posture of submission as his hands curl into fists, clenching at the sheets on the bed.

“P-please.” This time his voice is a whisper, and Ryouta doesn’t understand what’s happening but he cannot stop. Normally, he’d refuse to ever be in such a debasing and immodest position, but he is burning up and practically delirious and he needs to be filled.

“Please,” he repeats again, when he hears Aomine swallow. He pushes his ass up a little higher in the air and tries not to look behind him at the other man. “I need you.”

Fill me.

Fill me.

_Fill me._

He hears Aomine’s breaths coming heavy and fast, and Ryouta is trembling all over in his lusty haze.

“Kise,” Aomine says, and his voice is hoarse with desire. “You’re not feeling well, I can’t…I can’t, I can’t.”

He seems to be attempting to convince himself.

“Please.” This is repeated a third time. No response. A sob escapes Ryouta’s mouth. He reaches a hand to his ass, between his ass cheeks, and almost collapses with relief when pleasure sparks throughout his body. He pushes a finger against his slick, wet entrance and to his surprise, it slides in easily. His ass is tight around his finger, and his finger is foreign in his ass. He gasps when he begins moving his finger and he can hear Aomine, who is practically hyperventilating. The brief ecstasy wears off quickly, however, and he is overcome with an even stronger need for something bigger, something thicker, something hotter. He pulls out his own finger and an embarrassing whining sound escapes from his mouth. His slick hole sucks at the digit, trying to keep something in it. He hears a sound like a wet pop! as his finger is freed.

_Humiliating._

“Daiki,” he moans then, and at that, Aomine seems to snap. He rushes over to Ryouta, climbing onto the bed and grabbing his hips, steadying his ass in the air. The blond gasps at the contact with the skin. He feels Aomine’s rough, strong hands spreading his cheeks apart and he can feel his entrance twitching from the exposure.

Then he freezes, leaving Ryouta more frustrated than ever. He grinds his ass against the touch, begging with his body.

“You’re…” Aomine’s voice is overloaded with a hazy lust, yet some confusion. “You’re slicking. Like a woman.”

Ryouta doesn’t register the words. He doesn’t even think Aomine registers his own words. His whole body is trembling and he needs relief from this heat. He cries out in frustration and feels Aomine soothing him with soft touches.

“Take me,” the blond begs, his voice barely above a whisper. He is positively delirious with want, and his voice rises and speeds up as he is neglected any satisfaction. “Please, please.”

Aomine snaps his hips suddenly, thrusting in without hesitation and Ryouta nearly buckles from the relief. The burning pain is quickly replaced with a feeling of heat and fullness and satisfaction.

“ _God_ ,” Aomine groans then, his voice low and guttural and sending shivers up Ryouta’s spine. He moves in shallow, taunting thrusts that makes Ryouta into an incoherent mess. He arches his back, trying to accept more into him and when Aomine strokes in deep, he hits a spot that leaves the blond lightheaded and gasping.

He buries his head in the sheets as he pushes back into the thrusts, the wooden bed making creaking motions as he does so.

Sweat is dripping from his hair as he rubs himself against Aomine’s strong touch. They are a tangle of two men caught up in a whirlwind of heat and pleasure and lust.

Their bodies are on fire in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It Changes with a Morning 
> 
> And what a terrible morning it will be when Kise wakes up with his mind back and realizes what he did last night (yes, paralleling chapter 1). What a terrible morning it will also be when Aomine wakes up and remembers a certain something that went on with Kise’s body yesterday. Dr. Moriyama finally makes it to the inn to check on Kise. Imagine his, Kise’s, and Aomine’s reactions when the reason behind the pain and the…night…is learned. Lots of questions will finally be answered! Yay! 
> 
> Man I actually met my self-imposed deadline on finishing this chapter. Proud of myself. Now time to reward myself with some more Supernatural! :) Have a great Victoria Day weekend to all Canadians! :)


	9. It Changes with a Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kiddos, a fast update! I actually had this finished on Saturday night, but haven’t had the time to post it. Just as a side note, Kuroko will come to play in the next few chapters, so you can expect some serious plot occurring in Act 4. Thank you so much for reading and for sticking with me. You support and your comments motivate me to keep writing!

_It changes with a morning._

The morning is beautiful, with sun streaming in through the windows and friendly chatter sounding through the walls of the inn. Daiki is pulled from his sleep slowly and gently, waking up feeling more refreshed than he has felt in a while.

He stretches his arms with a smile on his face and sits up. He looks around the room blinking once, blinking twice…

The memories of last night come rushing back to him, startling him out of his pleasant tranquility. Daiki can feel his dick reacting to the memories. Ugh. Not a good time to get a boner.

He recalls the heat of the night, Kise’s burning hot body and soft, supple skin, Kise’s erotic gasps. He also, however, recalls two strange things that, though titillating, were alarming.

Firstly, Kise had a different scent to him last night, a scent that was highly arousing. Formerly, Daiki distinctly attached the sweet, mingled scent of mints and the sea with Kise’s identity. But now…Daiki cannot describe Kise’s changed aroma with any other scents he has smelled before.

Secondly, if Daiki is not mistaken, Kise was wet. He had been secreting a fluid that was like a woman’s vaginal fluid. Daiki knows it cannot be lubricant, but the slick had still been deep in him, where fingers could not reach…

Daiki takes a deep breath and tries to clear both the arousal, confusion, and worry from his mind. The emotions were too drastically distinct for him to focus well enough on either.

Doing the only thing he can do, Daiki shakes Kise awake.

“Kise. Kise.”

He fears how the blond will react. He wonders if the blond remembers last night.

Kise wakes up slowly, reluctantly, groaning as he shifts in the blankets before he forces his eyes open.

Oops. Daiki had forgotten that Kise is not a morning person. He found it cute how Mr. Sunshine was Mr. Grumpy in the early mornings.

“What do you want?” Kise asks, his voice soft and huskier than usual. Daiki curses his own boner and, at the moment, duly realizes that he is naked.

“Kise.”

“Where are we again?” The blond rubs his eyes adorably. His hair is tousled, a few strands sticking up, and Daiki resists the urge to touch it.

He sees the exact moment Kise remembers the events of the night prior. He can tell by the expression on the blond’s face.

His eyes go from tired and irritated to wide and panicked in an instant. It is followed by his mouth dropping open and his skin going white, and then flushing red with embarrassment and horror.

He slowly turns to face Daiki, who says nothing.

“ _Oh no_.”

Kise jumps out of bed then, which is a terrible mistake on his part. Daiki protests against it a bit too late, but can only stare.

_Oh, God._

Daiki swallows and tries to control his breathing, hating himself for being turned on at a time like this. He can’t help it. Kise is naked and tousled and gorgeous and what’s worse is the fact that Daiki’s cum is trickling down the inside of his thighs and he doesn’t seem to notice.

Daiki clears his throat. Then Kise looks down and realizes.

His hands fly down to cover his private area, cringing. He opens his mouth, about to say something, but is interrupted.

“I’m really sorry,” Daiki says. “I don’t know…I- I mean, I don’t…”

“I…” Kise’s voice trails off. He looks like he is on the verge of full-scale panic. “I don’t…”

There is a knock on the door. Both boys nearly jump out of their skin.

“Kise-ouji? Aomine-ouji?” A familiar voice is clear through the door. “It’s me, Dr. Moriyama. Are you two in?”

The boys exchange a conclusive look. With a single nod, Kise rushes into the bathroom to wash himself off while Daiki rushes to calm his boner a bit more and put on some clothes.

“One second, Doctor!”

After a few moments, Daiki opens the door to allow the doctor in. The doctor is a young guy with dark hair, almond eyes, and a neutral expression on his face. He steps inside the room without a word, glancing at the messy bed and strewn pillows.

“I was told that Kise was suffering from some kind of painful fit? Where is he?”

“He’s um, in the shower right now so it may be a while. Have a seat. Thanks for coming.”

“No problem.”

Moriyama sits down on the wooden chair a few feet away from the bed, but Daiki reminds standing awkwardly by the doorway.

“You’re a good looking guy,” Moriyama states matter-of-factly, “if girls like the tall, dark, handsome, and bad types. You know any cute girls you could introduce me to? Kise used to introduce me, we used to go to mixers together all the time, but he hasn’t lately. You know. Because he’s married to you for alliances or whatnot. But surely there must be some girls you know, some hearts you left broken that you could help me fix?”

Daiki doesn’t know how to react.

“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.”

The doctor perks up at the lack of refusal.

The rest of the wait for Kise is silent, and when the blond finally emerges from the bathroom, he looks perfectly handsome, composed, and put-together. Daiki is baffled.

“Moriyama-senpai! So glad to see you!”

“You look perfectly fine and healthy, Kise,” Moriyama says, raising an eyebrow. “I was told you were facing hair-raising, deadly pain. So deadly you guys couldn’t even continue to travel.”

“Well I—I was. I’m feeling better now.”

Moriyama doesn’t look convinced. Instead, he turns to Daiki. “Do you mind leaving the room? This may be a bit private for Kise.”

“No, I’m staying, if that’s alright with Kise.” Daiki turns to the blond, who does not meet his eyes, but nods once, slightly.

The doctor shrugs. “Okay. Well, can you tell me anything about the pain, anything that happened?”

Kise recounts how the pain felt, and a shadow crosses Moriyama’s face as he records down the signs and symptoms.

“A pain like shifting organs…and then the pain goes away? Then it comes back, but more as discomfort? Alright, anything else?”

Daiki feels his face getting hot. He looks to Kise, whose face is red.

“Last night,” Daiki begins, but is interrupted by the blond.

“ _Aomine-cchi_.”

“ _Kise_.” He needs to let the doctor know. “We need to.”

Kise, surprisingly, doesn’t argue.

“Last night,” Daiki begins again, “when Kise was in his fit of discomfort, I left to go get him some water from the motel’s well out back. I was held up by some old lady who dropped her bucket into the well accidentally and insisted I somehow get it back for her. Anyway, when I returned, Kise was…um…he smelled different and um…”

Kise groans in exasperation and humiliation, covering his face.

“He was uh, in the mood, so I was in the mood, if you know what I mean. So we, you know. And that was when I noticed…fluid.”

“Fluid?”

“Fluid.”

“ _Fluid_?”

“Fluid.”

“Like…?”

“Like slick.”

“Oh my God,” Kise protests suddenly, stepping in front of Daiki. “Moriyama-senpai, I’m sure this is irrelevant to the case, not to mention embarrassing—”

“No.” Moriyama’s answer is almost instantaneous, his voice extremely serious and professional. Daiki wonders if this is really the same guy who asked to be introduced to girls. “No, this is crucial. Aomine-ouji, please continue.”

“So yeah. It was like slick. From…you know. That’s basically all I have to say. He smelled different from usual…not in a weird way, not in a way like he had been doing anything…”

Kise covers his face in mortification.

“But I mean like…just his whole self was different.”

There is another bout of loud silence before Moriyama stands suddenly, a trouble expression on his otherwise neutral face. “Will you give me a day? I need to check up on some things, consult some other sources I know. I have a terrifying suspicion of something highly unlikely being true.”

“That’s comforting,” Daiki snorts sarcastically.

“If you have another fit of…of anything, Kise, please alert me at once.  Also please alert me if you guys leave your room and see a really cute girl.”

“Alright, Moriyama-senpai. Will do.”

***

The whole day is spent with Ryouta and Aomine sleeping or rather, pretending to sleep so that they don’t have to speak to each other. Neither of them try to talk, still too humiliated and turned on about the night prior. Ryouta still remembers Aomine’s voice like silk, and the feeling of need and satisfaction and lust. When Moriyama finally arrives in the evening, relief is evident in the atmosphere.

He arrives struggling with a few massive contraptions, dozens of wires, and a bag that is shaped ominously due to its contents. Ryouta swallows nervously.

“So.” Moriyama somehow manages, after much help and time, to fit all the contraptions in. He down the strange chair in the room, getting straight to business. “Kise, this might sound very invasive, but do you mind stripping completely from the waist down and sitting in this chair? Your feet go up here, in the stirrups.”

It looks like a gynecologist examination chair. Ryouta shudders. “No thanks.”

“Kise, please. Now’s not the time to be self-concious.”

There’s something in Moriyama’s voice that causes a note of concern within Ryouta, so instead of arguing, he turns to Aomine and asks, “Do you mind waiting outside for a bit?”

No way in hell is Aomine watching.

Luckily, the prince of Too doesn’t argue and exits the room quietly.

Moriyama looks to Ryouta expectantly who hesitates for a moment, before quickly stripping off his pants and underwear. He feels embarrassingly exposed feeling the cool air on such private parts of him, embarrassingly vulnerable as he sits in the chair and puts his feet on the stirrups, and is well aware of Moriyama’s examining eyes, clinical and professional. He hears the sound of his friend putting on gloves.

“Do you mind if I probe around a bit?” Moriyama asks.

“This is really weird and I _do_ mind, but you’re just going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

He stiffens immediately when he feels a finger on the swollen outer ring of his entrance, and tries immediately to close his legs. Then he feels it twitch, and he is mortified.

“Moriyama-senpai—”

“This will just take a second.”

There is pressure against the entrance now and suddenly, the digit slips in. Ryouta gasps and feels himself involuntarily clenching again and again and again around the digit, as if to coax it in deeper. He grits his teeth.

“Take it out,” he hisses, feeling extremely degraded. This was one of his closest friends with a finger up his ass for examination purposes, and here he is _feeling it_ like some kind of slut. Since when was his ass so sensitive, so wanton?

Instead of pulling out, the digit probes even deeper, causing Ryouta to tremble all over.

“Take it out,” he says, more pleadingly this time and Moriyama obliges.

“Slick,” he notes, looking at his glove before taking them off and carefully placing them into a transparent container of some sort.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I know that was uncomfortable and intrusive, but it was needed. A friend of mine who lent me all this stuff also said I could use his office tonight if needed. His office is pretty nearby, so I was wondering if you would deign to come with me there for some further tests?”

“Am I sick?” Ryouta asks, but the question seems strange, considering what just happened. He hops off of the chair and pulls on his underwear and pants.

Moriyama doesn’t answer.

***

After the multiple tests, Kise and Moriyama arrive back at the inn where Daiki is waiting patiently.

“You guys have learned about how our ancestors differed from us, right? How they were almost an entirely different species than us—”

“Through speciation, yeah,” Kise interrupts. “Then extinction of the original species, but the offspring species derived from speciation survives and prospers due to their differences working as adaptations or something.”

“Can you tell me how the original species differed from us?”

“The human wolves?”

“Yes.”

“Alpha, beta, omega,” Daiki says, and both men turn to stare at him in surprise. Daiki is miffed. Do they think he has no brain? That he’s a musclehead?

“Okay, Aomine-ouji. Please explain further.”

“People had the secondary genders, alpha, beta, omega. Generally, alphas dominated, betas were versatile, and omegas were submissive, right? There were all these terms associated with it; heats, and knots, and ruts, and whatnot. How is this even relevant? Why are we having a history lesson?”

“Well,” Moriyama clears his throat and swallows. “That’s because Kise seems to be an omega.”

A pin dropping could have been heard in the room.

“ _Excuse me_?” Kise asks incredulously, all his composure lost.

“I know this seems to be a really strange conclusion, but that’s all I got. Your ultrasounds confirmed that yes, you do have a fully functioning womb now and that—”

“Moriyama, this isn’t the time to joke.” Kise’s voice has a dangerous edge to it, and edge that reminds Daiki of what the blond is like when he’s fighting; all fire and menace and talent and mercilessness.

Daiki himself does not know what to think. He is in a state of numbing shock as if his brain has not fully registered Moriyama’s statements yet.

“An omega,” Kise repeats numbly. “A womb.”

“I’m not joking, Kise.”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“ _Get out_.” This is the first time Daiki has ever seen Kise so angry, so deadly. His amber eyes were filled with menace, so much so that Moriyama shrank back in terror. “I trusted you, Moriyama, to take this seriously. Now you’re making jokes about everything? Or worse, you were actually _dumb enough_ to come up with a conclusion like this? I’m not an omega, and if _you’re_ not leaving, then _I_ am.”

“Kise,” Daiki protests, but Kise has already left, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Daiki starts to rush after him, but Moriyama blocks his path, a helpless expression on his face. “Do you believe me?”

Strangely, Daiki does. He nods once.

“I know this sounds crazy, and I have no idea how this came to be. I really, really can’t say anything else about this and I know I dropped a huge bombshell on Kise. Please take care of him. Get him to understand the state that he’s in. This is serious, Aomine-ouji. His life is going to change.”

“How could this have happened? Do you have any idea? Any at all?” Daiki presses.

“I have no idea. Spontaneous mutation of the DNA, somehow? Have you heard of switches? Switches are powerful parts of DNA that allow animals to use genes in one place or one time but not another. They key body-plan genes. A switch may have been flipped somehow, some way…I don’t know. All I know is that you need to tell Kise three things. First, he will have heats, and I’m sure you know what that is. Second, he is able to get pregnant now. Third, he will be okay.”

Daiki’s mind was whirling, but he nodded as Moriyama left.

Something was suspicious. Daiki relayed all the facts in his head. Kise had been alright until he had visited Too. Now Kise can become pregnant. Daiki’s father had disapproved of Daiki’s marriage with Kise because he wanted heirs. Now Kise can become pregnant.

_Now Kise can become pregnant._

Daiki hated himself for the tiny twinge of excitement within him. Slowly, his brain connected the very obvious dots.

_No. No way. No way in hell._

_But…_

Was it possible that his dad is behind this? The fact that Kise could now bear children and the fact that Daiki’s father wanted heirs could not be a coincidence.

Kise returns the following evening, looking ashamed for his outburst and ready to apologize to Moriyama who has left. Daiki stares at him, trying to wrap his head around Moriyama’s conclusion. He recounted, begrudgingly, what Moriyama told him to tell Kise.

The blond walks over to the bed and sits, wrapping his arms around his knees. He looks strangely small and vulnerable at the moment. “Moriyama-senpai has never been wrong in his diagnosing.”

Daiki says nothing, and Kise looks up to him with sad, scared eyes.

“It’s true then? Everything he said is true?”

“Honestly? I think so, Kise.”

“I…” Kise shakes his head helplessly. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how this happened. I know my family. They were alphas; my grandfather told me that millions of times. I just…I don’t understand.”

“Moriyama guesses some kind of spontaneous genetic mutation.”

_But I have a better idea of who the snake behind all your pain is_ , Daiki thinks.

“You’re going to be okay, just like Moriyama said.” Daiki sits down on the bed next to Kise. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving.”

Kise’s expression softens, and Daiki hates to do this, but he adds:

“Figuratively speaking. I actually need to leave, Kise, I forgot something really important back in Too and I was wondering if you were okay to travel back to Kaijo on your own?”

Wow. That sounded really impersonal. Daiki silently chastises himself.

Kise blinks, surprised, before shrugging. “Sure. What did you forget?”

“To bring back some of Too’s classic black tea. I know this is a terrible, terrible time…”

“No. Go.” A smirk of amusement and curiosity plays on the blond’s lips.

“Okay. I’m actually going to leave…now, if that’s alright with you? I want to get back as soon as possible.”

“Uh, sure.”

***

It takes a while to finally arrive back in Too, but it sure as hell doesn’t take too long for Daiki to storm into his father’s room, furious.

“Were you behind this?!”

His father, sitting behind his desk where he always is, isn’t even surprised by Daiki’s presence. He doesn’t even flinch or look up from his work. Instead, he calmly answers, “Kise’s state? Yes.”

Never, _never in his entire life_ , had Daiki felt more hatred and anger towards his father than he did right then and there. With a grand, frustrated, sweep of the arm, everything came crashing off of his father’s desk, which Daiki then kicked hard. Daiki’s father scooted nimbly back, unfazed as the desk toppled over.

“ _HOW COULD YOU?!”_ Daiki shouted, grabbing the collar on his father’s shirt and pulling him up. “ _HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO KISE, TO ANYONE, WITHOUT PERMISSION? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN HE WAS IN, HOW MUCH PAIN HE IS IN RIGHT NOW?!_ ”

“Daiki, please settle your emotions. I did this for you, even for Kise if you think about it. Everything is better this way. Everyone wins.”

“You mean you win! You get the heirs you always wanted!”

“And you didn’t want any children?”

“There’s something called ADOPTION!”

“Is it the same, though? Wouldn’t you like to see a little child, blond hair, blue eyed, knowing that you and your…Kise…created that baby? Created a person together? I know you want that, Daiki. I gave that to you. Maybe the baby will have your Kise’s smile. Your _impulsivity_.”

The king pries Daiki’s hands off his shirt and works to smooth down the wrinkles. He looks at his son straight on and says, in a resonating tone:

“I love you son, and I know you wanted this.”

_I only gave you what you wanted_.

“How?” Daiki asks. “How did you do it?”

“I’m _sure_ you’re familiar with Too’s black market, Daiki. I know who you were before; always neglecting responsibility, always getting in to trouble. And Kise drank the tea so willingly.”

“You’re saying you bought something from the black market? You? The king?! You’re supposed to shut it down, not encourage it! Have you gone insane, Dad?!”

“It is also the Prince’s duty to shut it down and in all your years and knowledge, you never have.”

“You’re…” Daiki takes a step back. “You’re not my father anymore. Even if Kise and I do have a child, you’ll have no right to call him your grandkid.”

“Daiki…” The king looks at him imploringly. “Why can’t you understand that I did this for you? I know what’s best for you, for the kingdom, for Kise. Please believe me.”

“I’m leaving,” Daiki responds stiffly.

_And I’m not coming back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: It Withers with Deceit (I know “It Withers” sounds pretty ominous, but don’t worry…too much.) 
> 
> Yeah, daddy issues; I'm so cliche :3 So yeah, this chapter was fun and easy to write, so I finished it rather quickly. Have a great day/night wherever you are, guys! Once again, my tumblr is animeandotherquotes.tumblr.com if you want to come and have a chat!


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